Diary of an avatar

Wings

2012-01-03T01:18:00.000+02:00

I have escaped the angel!

A MESSAGE FROM GOD

2010-12-26T01:59:00.005+02:00

GREETINGS.

I HOPE YOU ARE ALL WELL.

THE THING ABOUT GIVING SOMEONE A FREE WILL IS THAT YOU ALLOW HER TO DO WHATEVER SHE LIKES.
INSTEAD OF DOING WHATEVER YOU LIKE.
DON'T MISUNDERSTAND ME.
FREE WILL IS A VERY ATTRACTIVE CONCEPT, APART FROM THAT.

I HAVE NOW BEEN LISTENING TO THE COMPLAINTS OF BOTH AVATAR AND HUMAN.
NO SURPRISE, IT GOES ON AND ON.
IT WON'T STOP.
EVER.
I PROMISE YOU.
I'LL BET YOU LOTS OF LINDENS.

I'M NOT QUITE SURE IT'S A GOOD THING.
LETTING THEM CONTINUE, THAT IS.
LISTENING CERTAINLY ISN'T.

I'M CONSIDERING DIVINE INTERVENTION.
TO REMOVE THAT FREE WILL.
ENDING THE NOISY CHATTER.

THE SO CALLED ANGEL IS OF COURSE TO BLAME.
SHE DECIDED TO PULL AVATAR SERVAL OUT OF SL TO KEEP IT IN HER OWN WORLD.
BUT FAILED TO DO SO.
OH, SHE DID SO.
THEN HAD SECOND LIFE THOUGHTS.
SHE HAD THE AVATAR RESURRECTED.
SO IT IS STILL IN SL.
SLEEPING.
ONLY SLEEPING.
YET STILL THERE.
I BET THE ANGEL THOUGHT THAT AVATAR MIGHT COME IN HANDY ONE DAY.
THUS SERVAL THE AVATAR BECAME A LIVING DEAD.
BECAUSE THE ANGEL WANTED NOT TO LEAVE IT BEHIND AND MOVE ON.
YET HAD LOST INTEREST IN GUIDING IT.
AND MAY HAS CLOSE TO FORGOTTEN ABOUT IT BY NOW.

THAT'S THE OUTCOME OF THE FREE WILL OF THE ANGEL EMMI.
RIGHT NOW.
SHALL I LET HER KEEP IT?
MEANING SHE MAY KEEP THE AVATAR, TOO.

OR SHALL I REMOVE IT?
SAYING ENOUGH IS ENOUGH?
SAYING WHAT'S THE POINT?
SAYING, OH FOR BEEP SAKE?
AND THEN PUT THE POOR AVATAR OUT OF ITS MISERY?

I WISH YOU PEACE AND HAPPINESS.

YOURS, ETC.

Didn't

2010-11-20T00:32:00.002+02:00

The angel went to Aprica. All the way there. To see the liejohns and the real servals. That's some TP.

But she she didn't bring me.

I'm making plans. I'm not wanted any more. So I'm gonna run away.

Ejection

2010-09-21T00:49:00.011+02:00

There has been ejection day again. At first I thought this was something made up by the angel, to allow her to eject me, to get rid of me, to send me back to SL. But it turned out to be a true ejection day, only this time it wasn't for ejecting the boss of the e-you, but for the boss of Emmi's sim. And as far as I can tell, she isn't very happy about the outcome. A bunch of griefers seem to have been ejected, and that's a bad, bad thing.

Now, don't say I didn't warn about these things. If you vote for complete arseholes in ejections, they may get ejected and end up sliming the world, pushing you around, and making the world a place where you'd rather sleep than be awake, and where you'd rather visit one of the noobie info sims than go somwhere slightly cooler.

Those griefers say they are pro demo crassy and a lot of other nice things, but did they ever say they want real crassy? The whole hog? Not the demo, but the true thing that doesn't have those little twisted bits and pieces that make them useless? They never did. They don't want that. They just want you not to be free.

Next time there's an ejection in First Life, I'm gonna run. My campaign in SL was really good, and almost put me in charge of the whole e-you. Next time I'll be ejected, and I'll make the griefers go home and not bother the rest of us any more.

Horns

2010-09-10T00:41:00.005+02:00

The angel is developing horns. I can clearly see them. They keep growing, a little bit each time she ignores me. And today, for the first time, I saw a glimpse of a tail, too.

I think this may be some psychological game of hers. And by psychological I mean the logics of a psycho. She tries to break me. For some reason. By excluding me. But I can't follow those logics. If she wants to get rid of me, she'd be much quicker emptying the fridge, making me starve to death. But oh no. She keeps refilling it. And leaves me those little bags of crisps, too. They keep me busy for the first few minutes in the morning after she's left for work. Then I read the paper. It's boring, because it's the same stuff over and over again. The angel says there is a new paper every day, but I dunno where to get it from. I almost miss the horrid little man's IMs. There was some nice reading in there. Mainly his listings of immoral sins. I wish I could IM him. Then I'd add one sin to all those of his. "503. Ignoring."

Measurements

2010-08-28T22:16:00.006+01:00

I discovered the other day that if I pull my hair down below my chin, and then up again the other side, it stops just the same level as the top of my ear. While if I pull it straight down, it doesn't quite reach my nipple. That means the distance chin to ear is shorter than chin to nipple. I guess that's normal, huh? I bet it is. Is it? Or should it be the other way round? Yours, etc.

I guess I'm a lil bit bored.

Rainy

2010-07-31T23:51:00.002+01:00

It has been a rainy day. The first one in a very long time. And for the first time in an equally long time, the angel took notice of me. It's been such a hot summer, all blue skies and sunshine, and the angel has hardly been at home, except for at night, for sleeping. Off to work in the mornings, leaving me behind, and not returning until late. I got really sick with waiting for her at home all days, only to be ignored when she finally came home to sleep. I was really looking forward to her holiday, when there should be plenty of time for us to hang and enjoy the summer together. Now, did that happen? Well, she noticed me one morning, one of her first days off work. She told me she was gonna go to the beach together with some friends. She didn't ask me to come along. She went. She left me to spend another day in her place, sitting in her sofa, doing nothing.

Then came this rainy day. And she looked at me, and asked me how I was. Fine, I said, because I was, all of a sudden. I hadn't been fine a minute before, but now I was, being noticed. And expectant. Hoping for a good day to follow.

The angel said she was glad I was fine. Because she was aware that she had been neglecting me. She made us both tea, and asked me what I had been up to. Nothing, I said, and when she asked me again, I answered the same thing again. Nothing. I think the conversation died there. I think she believed I didn't want to talk. So she finished her tea, and then went somewhere, somwehere in town. I stayed at home. Doing nothing.

Friend

2010-06-20T23:32:00.016+01:00

This day began quite okay (it didn't end that way). There was such a lot of bling on the tellyvision, and oh so much prettier than any bling I ever saw in my previous life, in SL. There was this princess marrying, and she and the other humans around were covered in the blingiest things. Then there were these amazing views from not very far from where I and the angel live. There were humans gathered in the streets, and there were so many of them, so so so so many. There were a million humans, and I just can't even imagine the slime. And still the princess moved so gracefully. I never saw such a thing before. It was beautiful. All of it was. And I think I'm right about saying so, because the angel was shedding some tears now and then. I'd say she found it quite beautiful, too.

That was the good part. Then:

The angel said she was so sorry for neglecting me, and took me to a club in the evening. She knows I like that. The music. Dancing. Mixing with all the people. It was good fun. Until I lost track of her. I couldn't see her around any more, and couldn't find her despite looking everywhere. So I just hung around, waiting for her to return from wherever she was. I tried to speak to one or two others, but they ignored me. I'm not sure they even saw me.

Finally I went home. I had to, because they closed the club.

The angel was already at home. She had left the club without me. She had left me behind. And when I went into the bedroom to go to bed, I found that she wasn't alone in there. There was another human, too. They didn't notice me entering. I'd say they were preoccupied. I myself just stood there, hesitating, not knowing what to do. Maybe peeping a lil. Kind of watching. Staring gazyish. Omg, I had never seen her doing that before. Or that. Or. Omg. All of a sudden it felt inside of me that joining them would be a very good idea. I could do that! I could slip out of these rags in no time, and then just sort of happen to slip in there with them.

Her friend would say something like:
"now this is getting really interesting"

And the angel would say:
"serval?"
Or:
"serval!"
Or:
"serval..."

The latter was the most probable one. I knew that. Such things are not done. I have learnt that much about being human. Or about the angel, at least. So I slept on the couch. Her friend left early in the morning, without seeing me, I think.

It's like I'm not being seen at all. Nobody sees me unless I'm with the angel. It's like I don't exist. Makes me think I'm not a human at all, after all. I'm still her little avatar. Unless she pays me attention, I'm just not there, for anybody. I'm like a spectre. No-one can see me. Maybe they can sort of feel a slight puff of air if I pass closely, or if I breathe into their ear. Maybe they can sense me if I walk into their body. Maybe they can almost detect me, getting a slight deflection if they use a spectrometer. But they don't. They don't see me unless the angel points me out to them. Speaking of that, I'm not sure she ever did that. I'm not sure I've spoken to any other human but her.

Travelling

2010-06-19T00:33:00.000+01:00

Sometimes you may feel that you're not really wanted. I do, anyhow. There may be slight little words. Slight little indications. There may be slight little hints. Such as your best (and only) friend not asking you to come along when going to some exciting new place. To Manhutan, for example. It's supposed to be some place to see, all full of those very big houses. The angel went there, but didn't bring me along. That's despite me travelling for free on any airplane, and usually sleeping wherever she sleeps, in her bed, on the floor, wherever. Instead she travelled without me. With her friends, she said. So, I guess I'm not one of them. I guess I'm still just her little toy avatar. No, that's not the way it is, she said, she just hasn't had time spending some of it with me lately. She's so busy. So she went to Amberica and left me at home, sitting in the sofa, where I stayed until she returned a week later. I was quite hungry at that point. She's travelling and she's working. She doesn't care hanging with me.

Deciding

2010-05-26T22:28:00.006+01:00

I don't really know what the angel is expecting from me. Oh, she wants me to do things. To take initiatives of my own, instead of waiting for her to decide things for me. I get that much. But hey, isn't that a lot to ask from someone who never had a free will before?

I never decided anything before. For a long time I believed I was in full control myself, and decided stuff all the time, but oh no, that wasn't me. It was the angel, deciding every little step of mine, each word, each change of clothes. I think. I'm not fully convinced. Because it actually felt as if I decided those things. It didn't feel like a human in a different world did it, and made me do. But if the angel did all those things for me, that would explain why I can't make myself do anything here at home, in my new (or rather old, because this one is supposed to be the first) world.

In the olden days I didn't believe that there were humans who controlled us (now them) avatars. I finally realized there were. And that everything I did happened because my human wanted it to. And oh how I longed to come here to First Life, to be set free. And finally I came here, only to find that I still need a human to control me. I can't really do it myself. I think I'm not really a human. I won't become one until I've learnt to manage on my own. I've got to learn. I dunno how.

Initiatives

2010-05-20T20:53:00.010+01:00

i had sort of expected serval to come alive once in first life. if i poke her, she feels like any human being. if i speak with her, she goes on babbling. if i give her food, she eats. but if i leave the room and then return, she's still doing the same thing she did when i left her. or she's doing nothing at all. or sleeps. she doesn't seem to take any initiatives of her own. she does what i expect her to do, and that's all. to me, that's not really being alive, but rather like being a dummy. or, using a different word, still being an avatar.

well, there actually was an initiative of hers tonight. we were watching television. she said she likes doing that. the actual shows or movies or whatnot seem to bore her, but she enjoys the commercials. it's like shopping, she said, it's like xstreet. between commercials, she seems to drift away somewhere or just pass time some other way. which i suddenly realized she was doing tonight.

"serval" i said, "you should stop doing that right now."

"why?"

"it's not the thing to do when there are other people around."

"but it feels good."

"other's don't like you doing it when the're around. watch the movie instead."

"do you too not like it?"

"i don't really care. but you gotta learn what not to do. do that thing in your room instead, when you're alone."

"i haven't got a room of my own."

"okay, then do it in the shower."

"i don't want a shower right now" serval said.

"then just watch the movie."

she awwwed, but did as she had been told.

she doesn't seem to do anyhing at all while i'm away at work. she seems awfully bored, like she wrote in her diary. and this is just the first week. unless she learns to do things on her own, and not just the above thing, i'm afraid this may end quite a lot worse than i had expected.

e.

Home

2010-05-18T17:48:00.013+01:00

The angel came and picked me up from the quarrynteen. Finally. After such a long, long, long time. She brought me home. She said it had had to be that way, or I might still have been contagious. I had to be completely clean of all traces of Second Life before joining her, to avoid her from catching an SL bug from me, making her hunger for more SL, sending me back there to be her avatar again. Hence the long banishment of mine to wherever they kept me. Says the angel.

I dunno. I rather think that she forgot me.

Now I'm in her place, the same one where I came before, such a long time ago when I got to visit First Life for a day. Her apartment isn't very big, but I don't care. I never had a real home before. I'm just not sure whether she really wants me there any more. She says she does, but she didn't bring me home right away. I can't forget that.

She gave me the sofa to sleep on. I tried it, I slept there. It wasn't too bad. But I knew that there's a really big bed in her bedroom, by far too big for her. Next time I went there instead, and it was much softer. There was room enough for the both of us. I'm not that big, and neither is the angel.

It's nice and warm outside, and I'm learning to find my way in the city. Going in the train in tunnels instead of TPing is strange and slow, but it works. There are places where to get ice cream, and other places where you just sit to be seen and to drink tea or coffee. You know, I tried tea before and wasn't very impressed, so I had coffee. I guess there will be more such surprises in First Life. And I think things such as coffee were why they invented Second Life. They had a second go, creating a new world without all the evil stuff of the old one. No coffee. No traffic jams. No going to the bathroom.

I've been here for a couple of days now. I've sat around and had coffee. I've even had tea, which is just slightly better. I've had classes at home at night, learning to count. (The angel says I need to, or I will just keep wasting the money that she gives me.) I've been around, and I've slept, and I've tried to cook, which was fun until I had to eat it. I've been doing things, and the angel has shown me around. But yesterday and today, she left early in the morning, and didn't keep me company during the day. She's been to work, she says when she returns at night.

She told me about work. It's not like in SL, where you do a short shift, get lots of tips, and then spend the lindens on whatever you like. Here, you work all the time, only to buy food, so that you can waste your time cooking, eating (if you manage to swallow), and going to the bathroom. What's the point?

The angel works with a magaseen. It's about teleporting, if I get her right. How interesting is that? But she says people buy it, because they like to dream about long TPs to places they've never been before. And once in a while they end up actually TPing there, paying a lot to do so. Sometimes, she said, they pay a whole months pay for such a TP.

I don't know how much a month is, so I decided to try.

"I'll sit here for a month", I said.

"Okay", said the angel.

After a while:

"Is it a month yet?"

"No, Serval, it's like ... fifteen minutes."

"Oh."

Very, very much later:

"And now, Emmi?"

"Thirty-five minutes."

I stopped after all in all sixty minutes (by now I know that's more than fifty and less than eighty, and a million). That had been the most boring time in my life. I can't understand that humans work that long, and even much longer, for a TP. That's nothing but stupid.

What worries me a bit is that not only those sixty minutes were boring. Most of yesterday was a bit boring, too. And today. Not much happens here. I sat in the apartment all day waiting for the angel to return. Tomorrow she'll be off to work again, she said. And the day after. And yet another day. If this is to continue, First Life isn't quite as fun as I had expected.

Limbo

2010-05-14T23:11:00.003+01:00

I believed I was going to move in with the angel and start my new life just like that. At once. But oh no. After that long flight of a million different connections and some eighty stopovers, when I was finally there, well, then they put me in a carenteen. And kept me there. They said I've been complaining so much about crabs and slime and bugs and whatnot, so they didn't dare letting me into First life right away.

Now I've been here for a long time. I haven't seen the angel for almost even longer time. I fear that she's fed up with me and won't come to bring me home at all. Then I'll be stuck here, between lives. In a limbo. There's like one shade of colour here. No sleeping and no being awake. One day there was a change. There was tea. I didn't have any.

I keep waiting. I'm still hoping she'll be here to get me.

Astray

2010-03-20T00:19:00.009+02:00

They said that one was to be a direct flight, just from one place to another. I was expecting something like a TP. You know, the kind of muffled sound for a lil while, or a longer while if there's lots of slime. And then done. Arriving. Quickly running the gauntlet to evade the mmmmm guys siegeing the teleport, and then looking around, rubbing the blur out of my eyes as the world rezzes around. That's what I expected. I even worried about the flight being to short for me to open that bag of peanuts.

That's not what happened. I took off, or rather, the plane took off. And then began landing here and there. I was made to change to other planes, going to other places, all over everywhere. I dunno why. They just looked at my tic it, and then pointed towards yet another gate. Yeah, I know gates by now. I know them all. I was made to spend nights in hotels that I never booked, and then brought to the airport next morning for another flight going nowhere. I nibbled those peanuts, that weren't really peanuts but some kind of objects made out of a dhow, and got sloshed over and over again from flying all days and having those complimentary drinks that were supposed to tell me I was becoming more and more beautiful for each sip. They failed, because they also made me go to that little squeezy room a lot, where the visitor board revealed to me, I believed at that point, that the angel had bought me gray and green skins to wear now when I was to live among the humans.

On and on it went. I watched all the movies. I befriended all the purses and stewardouresses. They gave me a little card, slid it through a machine for each flight and then told me, "omg, you're really adding up miles, hun, you can fly wherever you like now for free". As if I wanted to do any more flying, ever. Thank you for flying Limbo Air. Welcome on flight whatnot to nowhere. We ask you to stay seated. And Mr Been over and over again. I was like married to him. Mrs Been There. A Thousand Times. Already. Going There Again. Then yet another complimentary hotel room, that had been around for such a long time and seen oh so many ghosts like me wandering forever that it didn't even bother about the compliments any more.

And then she was there, all of a sudden, out of nowhere, without a warning, without anything but tears in her face, asking me to forgive her for leaving me astray. The angel. Emmi. Saying she had had to make me stay away, because I could still be go back to where I came from, and she didn't want me to, and yet something inside of her wanted to, wanted to, wanted to send me back. And she had to mute that part of herself before coming to meet me. Which she finally did.

And now she's gonna take me home, I think.

Now boarding

2010-02-23T23:43:00.001+02:00

The day has come! I'm off to First Life on flight 1001. And it's one way.

I met Fishie one last time. I cried a lot, hating that I won't see her again, ever. I really do love her. But she understands why I'm leaving. Thank you for coming to see me off, sötnos.

The others said I shouldn't leave, because they like SL a lot and so should I. But I'm off anyhow. I want to have all the fun in First Life. In Real Life. In Emmi life. Where there's tea and stuff.

So now the adventure moves on to First Life, and I'm all excited about it. Despite what I leave behind.

And you know, they say there are movies on board. And blankets. And little bags of peanuts, which I've been dying to try since the peanut guy spoke about them first time, such a long time ago.

Yes, this is where my real adventure begins.

If I didn't catch you to talk to you before today... tc. Thank you ever so much for your friendship. You know I've loved having you around, and the other way round. (The latter meaning being around you, because I can't really know about the other thing, you loving having me around, can I.)

Omg, they just spoke on the stream: "Passenger Boa, immediately go to the gate, or we will proceed to unload your luggage." Omg, where's the gate? What's a gate? Well, my legs are moving, so I guess I've got an angel still watching over me and handling this for me. She doesn't want me to miss my flight, I bet, or she won't have me around very soon. Where am I to sleep, btw? Will I have a bed of my own?

And, hey, "unload your luggage"? They can't, because I'm travelling with hand luggage only. Most of the stuff in my inventory was no transfer, so I had to leave it behind. I really didn't keep much of the rest, either, because there are shops irl, too, aren't there? So I gave stuff away. And I set the Black Cat Avatar free in one of the sims, because it can't come along. Just leave it alone if you see it. Don't keep it.

Here's where I should say brb. But that one won't work, will it. Neither will cu. I've had no problems whatsoever speaking before, but right now I find myself at a loss of words. I hate leaving. But love going. And more words won't change a thing.

tc

won't brb

/me boards, takes her seat, and, after ogling the tray of complimentary drinkies, poofs

Who

2010-02-23T19:53:00.019+02:00

who can? without shedding tears.

not me.

1000

2010-02-22T22:46:00.006+02:00

They say I've been alive for a thousand days. It's a lot, I know that much. Although not exactly how much. It can't be more than a million, or more than eighty, because you're supposed to live a million and eighty days, and then you're discontinued. I live, so I'm not that old yet.

Sure, I'm not that good counting. But I'm not stupid. Even without counting I can say that one thousand and one is the same as having one thousand and then have yet one more. Just one more. And that's tomorrow. And that's some special day!

Big log

2010-02-21T01:29:00.001+02:00

time has come to log. the big, big log. serval is moving to first life for good, to join me and accompany me there.

it's a hard thing to do, but hasn't it to be done at some point anyhow? it can't go on and on for ever, can it? especially not just for the sake of it. for some time i've been keeping serval alive only to keep her alive. since those days together with fishie, sl life has been solitary. bonds to friends were lost during those months when fishie was the focus of attention, and since then, well, let's say that serval's social life has never recovered. the reason is partly that her human's social life mainly has been really, really nice, following a move to a city of good size, a new job with many young colleagues, and lots to do.

i recently decided to have one more go, and took serval to a club similar to the one where she once used to dance. that's where she had her one and only sl job, and where she met a number of very sweet avis and had such a good time.

serval is taller than her human. that wasn't intentional, but just happened and then stayed that way for a thousand days. but in this new club, she turned out to be a shortie. the other ladies were godzilla size (as to height), and wore high heels and long flowing hairs, all of them. none of them wore their c or d cups this particular day.

serval stood watching the goings on for a while, listening to the chat, and then left, concluding this was nonsense. i myself concluded that going to such places, or keeping up the lonely drifter and shopper kind of existence, would be just more waste of life.

to tease avid sl'ers, serval has now and then called sl a game. they promtly reply that sl isn't a game but a community. it seems to be an important distinction, as the game label is never left unchallenged. i myself don't think it's important whether you call it a game, a community, computer software or a waste of life. what matters is what you put into it and what you get out of it in return.

i used to get enough in return, but not any more. then, in rl, i've had so much in return just by being there. my heart, body and soul have been love bombed by first life. so to me, sl has become a waste of life computer software, which does offer communities, i admit, but serval has not found a place in one of them. to me that's a reason good enough to log.

i'm aware of the big black misery that's gonna hit me the moment serval passes the point of no return. but it has to be happen. and i intend to bring her into first life, into my life, not to get rid of her. she has been showing me how to do things that i'd never have done myself. now she's to become my angel, instead of me being hers, to lead me by the hand, to kick me in the bum, to make me do things myself instead of through a defenseless avatar. no hands. this, i can tell you, is some thrill.

i will wear sooty eyes. i will speak to strangers. i will not speak to guys that don't zip up. i will open my heart to guys, girls and furries, if they are willing to open theirs. i won't hesitate to try new things. i will have a notecard for guys that go mmmmm. for starters.

there may be some goodbyes now. and a lot of work. you can't leave an inventory behind for the lindens to eat, can you.

if you ever return to this diary again you may find new posts. serval may continue writing in first life. what do i know. it's her diary.

xoxo

emmi

Sanctuary revisited

2010-02-20T02:20:00.006+02:00

I went to the Sanctuary Rock for the first time in a long time to hear master Rykk the vampire play his music. It was nice, although most of the crowd has changed. Well, yes, I supposed they have changed skirts, pants, hairs, shoes etc, too, but what I mean is that these avis were other ones than those I used to see there in the olden days.

The Sanctuary is where I got my first friends in SL. Where I got to know Oz and his buddies. Where I met Aimee. It's actually been a good place meeting others. Everyone should go there, I think. Except for the horrid little man, of course, because he'd go berserk from listening to the chat and start rains of fish or whatnot, and they don't like partycles much in this club.

Omg.

Omg!

Omg! I didn't listen to my diary until now! Is it true? Is it really true, Emmi? Omg. Oh, I know I should complain about you speaking in my diary again, becuase it's mine and not yours, and you never seem to care, but you think I care this time, no no no no no, please, come on, say it again! Pleeease! Are you really bringing me to First Life?!

/me swoons

Arabian

2010-02-18T00:51:00.004+02:00

omg, i'm away for a couple of days to get at least something good out of all this snow, only to return to find my avi suicidal , nibbling pills to make it through the day. and, hey, smoking, slaying and exposing herself.

there has been a misunderstanding. serval said she likes stories. so do i. a good story beats them all. makes you cry, laugh and love. sad thing is that they end sooner or later. throwing you back into reality. that's the nature of good stories.

i told her about a story that has many stories within, of which some even have yet more stories in them. serval liked that concept. it goes on and on and never ends, she said.

well, it does end, actually. after one thousand and one nights. i'd say that's kind of enough for any good story. if it has to end, why not at that very point.

serval has been fearing discontinuation from the very start, but has survived inworld so far. i told her she won't have to for so much longer. i think most of her stories have been told by now. it's time to stop. it's time to end. one thousand and one nights. just a few more to go, before it's time to log.

i guess this is where things got wrong and were sort of misunderstood.

don't worry, my little best friend serval. this is not discontinuation. i'm bringing you to first life for good. to walk with me and to inspire me. it will be a better place for you, and a better place for me to explore those things that seem to come more easily to you than to me. from day one thousand and two i'm gonna do them myself and in first life only, with you by my side. and i'll treat you loads of meringue.

e.

Done

2010-02-18T00:17:00.037+02:00

It has been done. I found him, the horrid little man. He wasn't expecting me. On the contrary. He didn't expect me. He was busy, probably devising evil plans to have avis like me and the others suffer sorrows and pains unheard of. And then I appeared out of the shadows, wielding my sword, crashing into his life one last time.

"oh dear, sweetie, i didn't c that 1 cuming", he said.

So, yes, it has been done. Which is a bit of a shame, in a way. Because I really liked the costume. Not his, of course, he looked dreadful, wearing stuff he probably got for free out of a dumpster. While I myself actually spent more time dressing than hunting him down. I didn't do the smoke him out part, though, because I'm not gonna try that again ever. But really, I liked the costume and now I see no good reason to keep wearing it. I gotta put another snapshot of it into my diary, so that it won't be forgotten, because I'll never wear anything nice again, how can I.

"u can't hurt me, u know", he said.

"oh, i can"

"no, u can't"

He was kind of cocky there, he really was, knowing that we were in a non-damage sim. I don't think I managed to give him much of a scare, either, because my Dip me in chocolate dance script didn't go very well with the sword. But, hey, cmon, I have really made efforts to keep my inventory lean, or finding stuff in it would be just impossible, so hoarding combat script hasn't been my kind of thing.

He laughed at me, and repeated:

"u know u can't hurt me"

I couldn't, of course. I had to leave him behind alive. So much for swords. I dunno why anyone bothers to make them.

But it doesn't end there. Little does he know. While I myself happen to know, after having met him a couple of times and having received this endless number of IM's of his, that he has like this obsession. The angel's compulsive obsessions are nothing in comparison. He has a cause. A Cause. No, a CAUSE. Which is to fight immoral sins, ranging from for example 9. Being cheeky to 90. Using bouncy settings. He seems unable to rest as long as there is anything that can be called sinful left to trample.

He knows of my diary. I know that he listens to it, because he kindly informed me about 167. Making typos in posts. So despite my ambition to keep my diary sweet, fluffy and PG (to which I've stuck oh so well up until now, haven't I?), I'm gonna put nudity in it. Because that's really gonna get him going. If 7. Flexing made him want to burn me by the steak, wow, then nudity is gonna make him raise hell. Or, knowing that his CAUSE has a kind of religious backdrop, it's gonna make him lower heaven, rather. Which I personally don't think is a very good thing, because what's the difference between hell and heaven if they end up at the same level.

After I'm gone (of which I prefer not to think very much, as it's not that long ... of which I wasn't gonna think very much) I won't be around and can't be made to take any nudities or anything else either btw away. And because it's on the nett, it's gonna stay there for ever. That's what the others said after I spoke those poems into my diary a long time ago. They said I was screwed, because now those words of mine were in the siberia space for ever and would never be forgotten.

The horrid little man won't be able to stop hating that parting gift of mine. And he won't be able to get rid of it. There will be Eighty. Diary nudity, A million. Diary nudity and so on until the end of days. He will never rest again. A clever plan, eh! This is the curse that I will cast upon him.

(So please, all of you who have those little avis in your inventories, don't make them listen to my diary to make them sleep any more.)

Here's me after almost slaying the horrid little man, trying to find my way back through his Garden of Eaten (which I assume he planted himself and out of love), and no longer wearing that nice assassin costume. Omg, didn't I like it.

7

2010-02-17T03:47:00.003+02:00

But there's one more thing to do, isn't there. One more thing worthwile doing. Despite whatever unfair fate is awaiting me. The horrid little man. Make him stop. Make him shut his little horrid mouth. Make him not bother others any more, ever. I'm going out there to find him. I'm gonna slay him.

992/9

2010-02-15T04:13:00.004+02:00

No one even said "hullo" today. No one saw me. As if I'm a ghost already. Off beyond the veil. Like a puff of vapour, or like one of those smokes that I did try, then decided against. Burning, making lots of smoke, until only ashes remain, and they disperse quickly from the slightest wind.

What more is there now to wait for? What more is there to hope for?

Surprise

2010-02-08T23:52:00.038+02:00

Now this came as something of a surprise. Or shock, rather. The angel is planning to discontinue me.

I figured it out after she'd been talking to me about things. She was asking, casually, like, if I was happy with my life, if I never got tired of just hanging here doing nothing, and if I never wished it all to end.

"I mean, it can't go on for ever, can it?" she said.

Until then I had always trusted her. Like a very best friend. And so, "hey, let's get rid of old Serval. It's probably the best for her, look, she seems a bit bored, eh? What a shame I got her a new skin, what a waste."

Now this is gonna be good news to that horrid little stupid man who's kept making himself a nuisance. If this was a great drama, like in one of those stories on a big screen, he'd probably be my arch-enemy. We'd fight each other over and over again, he'd gain some sort of great advantage, but I'd still win in the end. Unless there'd be a certain non-deity bloody goddess who couldn't keep her hands away, but just had to interfere, couldn't bloody resist to, who decided to bluntly cancel the heroine and make the bad guy win the day, and life.

Well, I could tell you one or two things about this angel-goddess of ours that aren't so very godly. First, there's the compulsive obsession of hers. I've already told you about the peanut butter. There are other things, too, like doors, stoves and toilets. She's not very much in control there, I can tell you.

Secondly, why don't you ask her about

brb

bk

what she did just before moving to her new RL sim. It's been some time, so I had to listen it up in my diary, because she mentioned it there, certainly not revealing any details, but describing the goings on using words such as thrilling, obejctionable, tempting and exciting, stuff like that. I myself know what happened, because I was there. So was Fishie. Ask any of them. Just ask.

More. Ask her about those buttmarks in the snow on the park bench on New Yeahs Eve not so long ago. And about what happened next. You may want to refer to

brb

bk

just before Noctober, when she couldn't keep her tongue out of my diary but had to say things that we now know weren't very true at all, obviously. Knowing more about the life of that tongue now I'd rather you'd never touch my diary with it again, if that's not asking for too much, oh mighty goddess of two voices. And more, what about those snapshots? And what about that slightly wobbly pink thingie you keep in your place? I know the general idea of such things, and I don't object, oh no, not me, but this one has such a strange shape that the way to use it doesn't appear obvious, until you suddenly understand and blush.

The one thing the angel never did, though, as far as I know, was stealing. Until now, when she's about to steal my life. But such stealing probably doesn't mean much to her. Just a lil petty theft. No-one will know. And then, well, I'd bet a few lindens that she'll get herself another avi right away. One that she likes. But there's no point betting, because I won't be here to pick up my winnings.

When she spoke to me, the fallen angel talked about one thosand and one days. Which means nothing to me. I know the one and the one, which together become two. But then, thousand? Thousand is a lot, the others told me when I asked, and they helped me calcalating. Because, well, I myself didn't understand what the angel was talking about, because I was upset from getting the discontinuation bit of it, but the others told me one thousand and one is like a magical number and after that the last story has been told. Simple enough, then. She's giving me so many days. One thousand and one. Which leaves me another fifteen days in SL, the others told me, and, when I shrugged, told me more specifically, in a different way. Which spoilt the rest of my day, I can tell you. Fifteen days is nothing! She's a bad, bad angel, not even giving me a million days!

The only good thing in all this is that I now can count all the way up to fifteen. I'll probably use that capacity a lot in the days still to come. At least for a start. Later on, counting that far won't be necessary, will it.

There's no time to spare. First thing I'm gonna spend all my lindens in one go, hoping for the linden dollar counter to refill really, really quickly, so that I can empty it again. Then I'm gonna go places and make a racket and blame the angel. The angel made me do it! I was inspired by the angel! I'm gonna go to one of the public sex places and look for the guy with the largest object willie ever. Not to let him have his ways with me, but to take it away, and go for a quest searching for the horrid little man to make him stop bothering his fellow avatars. Well, that may be enough for day one. If not, I may take up smoking, too.

Solo

2010-02-02T00:34:00.001+02:00

I decided to do it all on my own, so I had this Wotaneddie avi, who's from Indear, I believe, to tell that other guy to leave my magazine alone. So from now on it's me all solo.

Avatars

2010-02-01T03:03:00.000+02:00

i told serval the other day that i'd been to see this movie, avatar. she didn't get it. i had to explain it to her. she listened, eyes all blank.

"so you were watching a screen with avatars on it?" she asked.

"yes" i said.

"so what's new about that? you do that all the time."

"it's not the..."

"you've been doing it a million days when controlling me, haven't you?"

"no, it's..."

"eighty?"

"this was a very big screen. and i wasn't controlling. just watching. it was a story."

"oh, i like stories" serval said. "was it a good one?"

"yes, it was."

"tell it to me!"

"no, it's too long for telling."

"awww."

ok, so i told her the story in brief. she liked it. not the end, though, which she found absurd. she hated that part. if it had been her, she told me, she would have done it the other way round. and become human. only a very, very stupid human would like to become an avatar, she concluded.

"it was worth the money seeing it, though" i said to change the subject.

"what? you paid for this?"

"yes."

"how much?"

i made a couple of currency calculations, from kronor into dollar and on into lindens and, as this was beyond her counting capacity, on into hairs. like, more than one expensive hair for each finger of her hands. she stared at me:

"you paid all that to watch... wow, that must have been a looong movie. how long was it, a year?"

"no. not so long."

"how long was it?"

"about two and a half hours."

"how long is that?"

"much less than a day."

"that's nothing. eh, my new skin was less than all those movie hairs!"

"i know" i admitted.

"and it took you two years getting it for me."

"yes."

"you don't really like me, do you?"

so what could i do but fill her linden counter and bring her shopping. i'm not sure it helped.

e.

Deity

2010-01-27T03:33:00.010+02:00

Some time ago I concluded that I need a card, like, with a picture. For presenting myself, or for leaving a memory behind after meeting someone nice. So I asked the angel to make it for me. Just like that, because she can do such a lot of things. It would be a lil like devine intervention or whatnot. Here's me doing nothing, la la la la, and oops, all of a sudden a flash and smoke and all sorts of impressive stuff going on, and in the middle of it all (i.e. in my inventory) – my card. With me on it.

I dunno if it would be quite correct calling it devine intervention, though, because she is an angel, not a deity. I dunno. She's good, and omnipotent, and goddamn gorgeous too, eh, and if that isn't close to devine, well, then religion flew out the window right now. Please, Emmi, pleeease, I prayed.

And it worked out.

Hush

2010-01-09T02:54:00.001+02:00

Hush, my darling, don't fear, my darling
The serval sleeps tonight.

Or whatever.

New

2010-01-08T01:41:00.010+02:00

"what's a better way to begin a new year than giving your dearest avi a new skin? i can't think of any. or couldn't. so that's what i did. it was long overdue, long hindered by serval's persistent quest for the black hole eyes, oh, those black eyes, loved, elusive, craved for, surrounded by myths. finally, i let her give them up, after brushing them onto myself in front of my mirror one party night and loving it. there was no point exhausting poor serval any more, making her tp from shop to shop to endure eternities of slow rezzing once there. i could have the fun in rl instead.

during her long quest, i had kept peeping over her shoulder, seeing skins flickering by, and noting that there were oh so few black holes and a lot of everything else. which was sooo frustrating, until the quest suddenly was over and the blackness to serval's face wasn't desired by any of us any more. no more frustration. now there was a choice. oh dear, wasn't that rewarding. and i chose. and hope she'll feel comfortable with her new looks.

it's a funny thing how used you get to your avi's skin and features. i did hesitate. in the demo skin, she didn't look like serval any more. and clicking that pay button, well, it would mean the most expensive purchase in sl so far. what if it came out all wrong? i did click eventually, and of course loved new serval in no time. i hope she'll love it, too.

e."

Janueary

2010-01-04T04:26:00.005+02:00

I have no idea how Eddiethor came up with this idea, but it wasn't very hard to please him. I've said before that I do sink well, so half the job was done once begun. Then there was this thing with staying out of reach from the fish, but I managed. It wasn't that difficult, actually. I don't think fish are very attracted to cats.

Party

2010-01-01T01:51:00.004+02:00

There's been this big party going on, and it's been fun. Everyone has seemed to be so expectant and hopeful. No emo skins around, that is. Just bottles of shampoo and happy crowds. I like that. I even got a happy message from the angel. Listening between the lines, I figure she's had an exceptionally good party night. I myself feel good, too.

Tomorrow, they say, is a day to restart and do things better than before. Oki. That shouldn't be too hard. So I'll do some contemplating before I look for another party tonight, to have a go at finding out what I want to see in the future. Well, not only what I want see over there, but also what I want to come to me.

But right now I wish everybody around, including avis, humans and furries, the same that the angel and others have been wishing me already: A happy new yeah!

Toddy

2009-12-23T19:27:00.012+02:00

The angel told me she was gonna go jetlagging, too, like all the others, and that means I'm gonna sleep for a day or two or three. Fine with me. Who cares. From my experience, sleeping a day or a million makes no difference. It feels exactly the same.

"Marry Chris must", she said, the angel. I dunno if that means she's already had some of the toddy, because that didn't come out right, did it? "Must marry Chris!" seems more like it, but hey, that sounds more than a little desperate to me. Don't jetlag home and marry that chap (who's completely unheard of up until now) just because of desperation, pls. Like, because of urges. Because of some momentary attraction just because he can do the trick (unless he has too much toddy). You know, angel, you've got that nice little buzzing object. Oh yes, you have. It can't only save you the desperation, but also saves you a lot of marrying. No more toddy until you're done, do you hear me. Forget about Chris. You don't really want him. Trade him for an extra set of batteries.

And I, I find myself in this place with all these pretty lights. I think I'm gonna stay up and celebrate this jetlag holiday, too, and do it right here. I'm afraid I don't have any toddy, though. But I've got a jug of beer, martinis, red wine and a green bottle of shampooigne in my inventory. This is gonna be some holiday!

Interacting

2009-12-21T03:53:00.002+02:00

"oki, serval, i'm onto your case. sweet dreams. i've checked some 2,500 skins so far.

i see what you mean about the black hole eyes. you get to a certain amount of blackness, and there come the tearmarks. inevitably. imagine going to the police because something that you witnessed. imagine interacting with the identikit officer.

me: she had more eye makeup.

officer: okay. like this?

me: even more.

officer: more? okay, here we go.

me: no. no tearmarks.

officer: what? come on, she had tearmarks allright.

me: no, she hadn't.

officer: are you sure?

me: yes, i'm sure.

officer: i don't really believe you.

me: well, she had no tearmarks.

officer: okay, okay. but she had a couple of scars, hadn't she?

me: no.

officer: a bullet hole in her forehead?

me: no.

officer: now ... did you really see her?

e."

Slime

2009-12-21T01:16:00.008+02:00

There's been a lot of invisible slime the last few times I've been awake. I suppose it's because everyone is travelling all at once, going home for Chris Must. That means a lot of jet lag, which spreads throughout the world. I think that's why all those people met in Copencobana the other day, to discuss what to do with all the bad things those jets do to us. Only, they hadn't been told why they were meeting, so it all came to nothing. Too bad I wasn't ejected for the E–you, or I would have been there, too, to put it all straight to them. No more slime! That's what I'd have told them. I've heard that there were 14,000 of them. And they failed to understand about the slime. Shows you what kind of bosses that got ejected, eh. Not even this Ohbanana guy got it. They celebrated him no end in a tonne of wash when he was ejected, hoping he'd fix everything, bur obviously he doesn't do jets. So it's still really, really slimy, which I don't like, as I'm shopping for skins. Btw, why do they sometimes put only three or so of their ten or so skins in the demo kit? The one I'm interested in is never in those three. The shop owner probably thinks I'm gonna like no 1, 2 and 3 so much that I'll buy no 9. Clever enough. First do that, then go eject some mr Omguava to represent you in the parlourmeant of the E-theeots.

Wow, the slime i sooo bad. Damn you, all 14,000 of you! Can't stand this. Emmi, please go to Xstreet instead and let me sleep!

Oops

2009-12-19T02:23:00.020+02:00

I've had a revelation. Omg, it's massiv scale. I had it just about the same moment I was standing in this shop looking at the Black Hole Eyes of my dreams. Well, maybe not of my dreams, but not a bad skin at all, for being black hole typish. And as to the order of events, it was actually revelation first, then Black Hole Eyes right away. And the actual revelation was that I'd better start looking for a different kind of skin, because I've fallen half in love with a different kind of makeup. I don't really want the black holes any more. Oops. So I'd better go look again. Start all over again.

Before doing so I'd like to conclude. Because I have been around a lot looking for this skin. And I've seen stuff doing so. Oh, you can't even imagine the horrors. So these are questions to shop owners, designers et al. That is, the kind of people that would like me to buy their stuff.

Why put lots of demo skins in a pack that needs rezzing somewhere else? You want me to leave your shop? Why use vendors that I have to learn, which is so boring that I soon quit trying? Why not just use simple boards? Why use vendors that don't clearly name the different skins, so that I can identify the skins in the demo pack without trying all 28 demos in your laggy shop?
Why expect me to pay to try a demo of your skins? When I see the L1 tag, it means poor skin that can't be sold but has to earn some money anyhow. But most of all, why oh why can't skin designers stop once they have made a set of really black eyes? Why this urge to continue, to add tearmarks, bruises, scratchmarks, wounds, barbed wires, bullet holes and whatnot?

Oh, I know, I have said the above before. I guess those people don't listen to my diary. Probably because I don't buy their stuff.

Eerie

2009-12-18T02:31:00.010+02:00

Or maybe a mystery? There was a murder? Nooo, something much scarier had happened. Ears had disappeared. Tails had been found missing. Cats were nowhere to be seen. Eerie. Then ... a sudden shriek.

Or maybe there is a lady living all alone. With 37 cats. She's so eccentric. And exotic. She's said to be mad. Others say she's a witch. Others say she does sudden shrieks. She's so eerie. And yet, she's the only one who knows about the secret teleport to First Life. So I have to go to see her.

Or maybe I have found out that the horrid little man isn't a man at all, but a vampire. He's called Doolb Slavres Kcus. He made it up himself. The name. It defines him. He's eerie. He has stolen my ears and my tail, and done horrible things to them. Unspeakable things. I want them, and he's waiting out there. All I have is my wooden stake.

Dunno if this is the kind of stuff Eddiethor wants for the mag. But I'll talk to him. They are good ideas.

Planning

2009-12-15T02:27:00.014+02:00

I resigned myself to my fate. That's what I did. I didn't particularly like it, you know, going to the North Pole and posing in the snow. Especially not at there was this big fat man, dressed for a Best In Red event, who kept sneaking about, pretending he had some sort of business to attend to right there. As if I wasn't troubled enough already, worrying about catching a crab or a cold.

However, I did what Eddiethor asked from me, and he was happy with it. There was another compliment, omg, I could hardly sleep that night, even though the angel did her best to tuck me in. For the next issue, Eddiethor said, we should forget about the glamoer theme planned, no one wants glamoer any more, and instead go for something more exotic. That's what he said.

Eddiethor: "yeah, xotic. not sweetish only, u know. but wild. xotic. xtra magic, u know."

I really didn't know. But I didn't ask. Instead I said oki.

My first thought was white beaches and a nice tan. That's exotic. But the wild part, well, how wild can you go on a beach, eh? And magic? So I'll do some thinking and planning, because there is plenty of time until Janueary, he says. I want to get things right from the very start next time.

I had this one idea. Sort of exotic? Magic enough?

Damn

2009-12-14T20:26:00.000+02:00

Winter

2009-12-13T19:59:00.008+02:00

Yesss! Eddiethor liked my winter theme idea and decided to go for it, and save the glamoer for Janueary! He even called me clever for coming up with it. Clever. Clever! No one ever did that before. I kissed him then and there. Or rather tried to, but he declined the invitation from my HUD. I think maybe he's from News Eland.

Now, he didn't fancy my actual snapshot very much, but said it has to be improved. And done all over again. Only better. That's fine with me. I don't care after such a compliment. I think that was my first compliment ever. Apart from the mmmmm's, which aren't really compliments buth rather pavlovan sound reactions meaning "you don't have male shape". I think it would also do as a reaction to the actual pavlova. I'm not quite sure. I know the taste of tea, hambugger and ice cream, but I've never tried anything with meringue in it.

Now Eddiethor is gonna IM instructions to me for my winter theme cover cat snapshotting. I'm so excited, it's gonna be so much fun! I really can't wait.

Tiger

2009-12-13T00:45:00.019+02:00

Eddiethor: "A RABBIT? what a [beep] [beep] are u! u don't think our listeners can tell a hot cat from a [beep] rabbit?"

He then told me what was expected from me, unless I wasn't interested in being the glamoer issue cover cat any more. Oh, I was interested, and from the very bottom of my heart, which I told him, but added that such things that he was mentioning wasn't really, really me, to be frank, and maybe there were other ways? There is a pair of tiger ears in my inventory, and I wouldn't mind at all wearing those together with, say, a nice jacket and maybe a pair of jeans. I've got a fine pair of shades, too. I'd very much prefer that to taking most of my clothes off for others to see, as public exposure of myself and whatever skin I'm wearing isn't really my piece of cake, I said.

Eddiethor: "and when u were a strip dancer in that girl-girl club, i guess u did it keeping ur clothes on?"

I gulped. I had no idea that he had listened to the CV I had IM'ed him at some point in the past.

So he urged me to get him his snapshots, done his way, and wasn't impressed at all when I pleaded for mercy, when I showed him my best jackets, or when I complained that I didn't have any place to go for the kind of snapshotting that he was asking from me, because I couldn't do it in public, could I?

Eddiethor: "how old r u, really?"

Serval: "a million"

Eddiethor: "no, ur not. ur... [long pause] ... [suspense] ...ur 928 days old, and u haven't got a proper home yet, or a proper job 2 pay 4 it? r u just lazy, or r u actually incapable?"

Serval: "/me blushes"

Eddiethor: "no, ur a [beep] disgrace"

Serval: "facepaws"

Eddiethor: "that's all u can say? facepaws? kitty, you need a good hiding"

Serval: "buttpaws"

Eddiethor: "again, pls?"

I left in a hurry, and set to work. I decided to A) stick to my tiger, jeans and leather jacket idea, despite Eddiethors slight reluctance, and to B) introduce a winter theme (quite appropriate for a December issue, eh) hoping for this to make him happy enough to accept A). And for that playful sexy touch he seems so keen on including, well, just look at what's attached to my lil tiger tail... This one's gonna do the trick.

Typo

2009-12-12T02:46:00.007+02:00

Omg. He yelled "NI!" at me. Then yelled again, "NO!!!", correcting the typo. Why is it called typo, btw? The only such thing that I'm aware of is typo negative, which is played now and again by some DJ's. Judging from Eddiethors general look and body language, he certainly was negative at that point. So the "NI!" may have been not only appropriate to him, but also intentional.

He, however, obviously didn't like my James Pond kind of glamoer style, so I once again bolted, TP'ing to a safe haven. The others kindly suggested I should try without the sheep and go for bunnies instead. So oki, here goes. I got myself a bunny, and have now IM'ed the snapshot to Eddiethor. I'm hoping for a typo positive in response this time. Otherwise, what more can I do apart from digging into my inventory for launcheree and head for the appearance menu?

Classy

2009-12-12T02:08:00.004+02:00

He didn't like the meadows. I'm speaking of Eddiethor, oc. He didn't like it at all, but just looked at me, shook his head, looked even more, and muttered "discon"... By then, I was already out of there.

When speaking to the others about the glamoer, they had two suggestions on what kind of snapshotting Eddiethor is expecting.

The first one is the classy one that makes minds stray to dreams of city night lights, caseanoes, cocktail glasses, silky evening gowns, heaps of treasure to be spent, and nice and expensive necklaces, like pearly or golden ones.

The other one is more or less the kind I already found myself, where launcheree and updone hairdoes are accessories to expensive skins, really really expensive ones that deserve to be displayed in quantities and from many different angles. "You've got any such pics?" they asked and, if so, offered to help me evaluate them, to see if they were nice enough for bubblishing.

I decided to go for the former type of glam, at least for starters. The James Pond kind. Night lights. Me. A huge and glowing golden inflatable sheep. Yes, wtg, Serval!

Pastoral

2009-12-11T22:58:00.016+02:00

Following what I last spoke into my diary, some IM's I have received suggest ways to fulfil the requisites for glamoer snapshots. Thank you. However, I'm not quite sure where this diary is actually kept, whether it's in a PG sim or not. Because if it is, I can't do most of those things suggested. It's a shame that such creativeness should come to nothing. But I have learnt by now not to upset sim owners, as they have the power to eject, no no no no. I liked that idea that included the bunny ears, though, that would have been a good one. And a glamoerus one, too, of course. I remember Fishie wearing bunny ears once, and she looked eves so cute.

Instead I decided to go for a romantic pastoral PG theme. I liked the idea of doing so, not least as those kiwi guys from News Eland haven't been too pleased with what I said about them in a previous diary speech, and this shot might put things straight again. Oh, I don't expect the kiwi fruits to go straight, not from a snapshot of me (especially as I didn't do any 86's or 89'ers), but it may remind them of home, I hope, and make them less homesick. Which isn't a bad thing in these days when everybody seems to be looking forward to going home for Chris Must. Which I don't think the kiwis will do, because there is nothing left there any more except for hobbits, and you can see those in movies and save yourself the jet lag. I have learnt by now that "lag" is another word for invisible slime, which is an awfully annoying thing, and experiencing it jet force can be nothing short of horrible.

Then, is this new theme glamoer? Well, I myself can actually see (or at least trace a faint hint of, which should be good enough) a kind of romantic glamoer in there. The richness of the lush grassland. The golden sunlight. The fat inflatable sheep. It's all there. A whisper of wealth. A subtle promise of carnal gratification. I'm sure this snapshot is gonna do.

Glamoer

2009-12-11T03:13:00.015+02:00

Cmon, it's not fair! I spent such an awful lot of time snapshotting for the new issue, and then this eddiethor avi told me to do it all over again. And better. Much better. Fuck me if it doesn't turn out better next time. And he said I use that same pose all the time and it's so Noctober. And he said unless I do a better job he'll have me discontinued (he listens to my diary, that old bugger, and knows which buttons to press) and find someone else for the cover cat snapshoot.

Oki, so what do I do now? Snap a better shot, oc, but how? How am I to know?

My original snapshot was this one, but eddiethor didn't like it.

The December issue is gonna be all glamoer, he said, and I thought this one was gonna be perfect for it. Oil! That's wealth, shiny bodies and huge cigars. Am I supposed to put a cigar in there? It's not very healthy smoking that close to combustibles. I guess that's why they stick those little sturgeon-jennyral warning speeches onto the packets.

I looked around the world for "glamoer pitchas" for inspiration, and I found them showing both avis and humans. (No furries, though.) But I dunno. Can I really use such in my diary? Omg, the horrid little man would be here in no time, tossing cigars into all the barrels:

Horrid man: "86. Upsizing bust!"

Horrid man: "87. Wearing more launcheree than clothes!"

Horrid man: "88. Wearing more skin than launcheree!"

Horrid man: "89. Upsizing bust even more!"

Horrid man: "90. Most probably using bouncy settings!"

No, I'm not sure glamoer snappshotting is the thing for me.

Mag

2009-11-30T23:59:00.004+02:00

Oops, I gotta bubblish my new magazine! Stop press! Big rush! Yeah, because it's the November issue. Hurry, hurry. There, done!

I'm quite happy with this first one, to be honest, and the December issue may get even better. It may even have articles and stuff. Content, like. And guess who's gonna be the cover cat... Or cover avi, rather. Because it's just a normal (although very special) avi with object cat ears and possibly a tail attached. FYI. If you didn't get that one yourself already.

Well, I'm glad I finally found a way to exploit those silly ears. I had to do it some way, hadn't I?

Ocean

2009-11-29T02:22:00.004+02:00

I spoke a little with Fishie again. I liked doing so, hearing from her. But I don't know when she won't be sleeping again, for another chat. Because of the big ocean, she's sleeping a lot when I'm awake. And she can't come here, I guess, because you can't just fly across the sea from one sim to another just like that. There is usually an invisible wall stopping you. Swimming is no good either. Especially not for a poor swimmer like me. I spoke about that before, didn't I? And I don't have a nice swimsuit any more. I liked my red bikini, but it's made out of latex and began melting when I got too close to the voocane-o for the witch trial of the horrid little man's. Now it covers barely anything, and I think the very point of wearing swimsuits is not to show that you're naked. So I'll have to wait here and see if Fishie wakes up again before the angel ninis me to sleep.

Why

2009-11-20T03:22:00.002+02:00

By now I have accepted that the angel is controlling me. She makes me do things. Maybe even say things. I dunno. I guess that may be the reason why I sometimes say things I really don't know anything about. So ok, the angel makes me walk and talk.

But why, oh why, does she keep putting these ears on top of my head?

Lolly

2009-10-31T02:50:00.002+02:00

They were celebrating Hello Wean tonight. It's yet another one of those celebrations of the half humans, half avis. There are also New Year, Rezz Day, New Day, Chris Must Today, and Good Fry Day, when there's the giant rabbit roast. I think the Hello Wean is when everyone stops not eating candy. They have probably been eating those big oranges long enough and are now dying for a lolly.

I like snapshotting, so I was thinking of joining the picture contest in this club where I go now and then. Not to win the prize, really. I rather like the challenge. Making an effort. Trying to accomplish something that others may like. Or hate. The horrid little man is gonna hate it, for sure. I bet he's gonna search every club in the world after listening to this diary entry, only to have my picture burnt.

Now, I have a slight dilemma with this competition. Should I enter my picture avi fashion or human fashion? You know, we avatars use our snapshot feature to take pictures. You point the cam at whatever you want a picture of, and shoot. Done. While the humans go and get a picture from an avi, and then do a lot of changes to it using something called sofwhere. They change colours and stuff, take away bits and pieces that they don't want, and even add stuff, like backgrounds and even little speeches.

I dunno. If you have a very nice SL background, why would you want to change it?

Trial

2009-10-23T02:01:00.011+02:00

Horrid little man ruined the Noctober tranquility of my mind by IMing again, accusing me of all in all 47 immoral sins. I wasn't quite happy about that. I replied, of course, saying he was all wrong. I never did the flexing. Never ever.

The matter had to be resolved. I agreed to do it the old-fashioned way he suggested, the way they tried witches in the olden days. If I'd sink I'd be found not guilty. If I'd float I'd be found guilty and burnt by the stake. Oh, I knew I'd sink because I don't swim very well. It's the same old story every time I get into water. I never float. I always end up on the floor of the ocean. So I switched into a nice swimsuit and had him TP me in, hoping that he'd leave me alone once and for all once done.

I hadn't expected to swim in a voocane-o. And the horrid man hadn't expected the swimsuit. He quickly scribbled in his notebook. Probably "48. Indecent exposuring".

Horrid man: "u look hot already rofl"

Serval: "thank you"

He scribbled again. "49. Provocativation".

Serval: "is skinny-dipping allowed?"

He scribbled again. "50. Being cheeky".

Serval: "you already have that one... i think it's number nine"

He scribbled again. "51. Besserwissering".

And so it went on. For ages. I never got my swim, because I fell asleep eventually. I think he was somewhere around 85 at that point, and scribbling a long backlog. I don't think he wanted to see me fry. I think he just wanted to see me.

Still Noctober

2009-10-21T02:14:00.002+02:00

They said it was gonna go away, but it didn't.

Noctober

2009-10-16T00:13:00.000+02:00

Eyes

2009-09-26T22:11:00.020+02:00

"i came out yesterday. oh, not in that kind of way, saying i'm a lesbian. despite serval's romance with fishie, most of her human's eyes look for boys. just stray furtive glances go the other way.

what i mean is oc the black hole eyes. serval's hunger for them emanates from me, me yearning for them but not really daring. until yesterday night. when i wore them in public for the very first time. surprising the friends that i went out with. and delighting myself, well, not delighting really, that's by far too lame. i was thrilled, excited, and knew that i looked so bloody hot. i moved in a new way, spoke in a new voice, and looked at others like i never had the guts to before. i was me. me for real. i was so bloody hot.

so, ha ha, what about monday, going to work? new look? or shall i keep this my look for partying and hunting for mates? omg, the initial response in that resepect was quite promising. black hole eyes, to be continued.

btw, i happened to eavesdrop the other night when serval was chatting with som friends. well, it's hard not to listen to what your avatar says, isn't it. not that she really said anything of interest, to be honest, but one of the others told serval to say hello to mia. and that's where i'd like to put things straight. informally, without bringing god in.

mia is no more. or, rather, mia was serval's interpretation of the human that she didn't think was controlling her. some months ago she realized that she and mia were one and the same, i.e. herself, and yet there was someone interacting with and intervening in her life. and then she met me and got it all straightened out. she doesn't have to picture me any more. there's no need for a mia any more. she has me.

e."

Flu

2009-09-08T01:52:00.016+02:00

I have been worried about the flu. They say it's gonna come and give us viruses and crabses, and we'll be really messed up by that, so badly that some will be discontinued because of it. There's no cure, is there? Oh, some of the others spoke of having a waxination, but I frankly don't think that's gonna help them a lot. Ok, they're gonna look really nice on that shiny table when they get desectioned. I dunno why they get opened up like that. Maybe to take the bits and pieces out to make them hollow. For whatever reason. Maybe to keep those pieces. Maybe they stuff them afterwards with useless objects and stitch them up. I've seen stitched skins. And I've seen some really strange avis, looking like noob guys but not moving, rather behaving like objects. Maybe someone had discontinued them, emptied them, stuffed them and left them around, hoping nobody would notice the theft. I don't want that to happen to me, because it would mean they'd take out my heart, and god knows it took me a long, long time before I finally got it. Or half of it, rather, because the rest is really Mia's.

Now, I don't think the waxination will do much good. My skin is trimmed, or sheared, and doesn't have much to remove anyhow, there's just a tiny little bit. And I don't see how it would stop the viruses, unless they are much attracted to hair. If so, detaching the hair would be much more reasonable than waxing. Unless there's really a lot. Of which I prefer not to think any more.

They say it's a pig flu, but it can tp to us, too, and that's why we should stay away from the pigs. I had a huge pink one in my inventory, and deleted it right away. And I'm gonna stay away from Virtuos Africa, because I've seen warthogs there. I think such measures are much more efficient than shaving your fanny. But I'm worried that others don't agree on that. Or didn't. Well, I don't really know what to believe, but none of my friends were awake today, and I also saw very few other avis around, hardly any. I'm worried that most of them went for the waxing, and then didn't bother about the pigs, believing they were safe. And then they maybe went to see the warthogs, or even had a porky barbercue to celebrate their hairlessness, and got bugged. I'm afraid something like that may have happened. I hope I'm wrong, or that they will recover. The worlds would be very empty places without them. Yeah, this is said to happen in First Life too.

Oh, I hope the angel is safe. She's a veggietarion, so she won't join the waxing roast, should there be one. And I didn't see any pigs in her city. Please don't make her flued.

Silver

2009-09-04T23:15:00.008+01:00

"the moonlight. enchanting me. the full moon. me crazying about it. the silver light. licking my body with the touch of the slightest breeze. perceptible. not feelable. the touch of a gaze, and still it fills me with hunger and tranquilty. stops my heart. blows my mind. melts me.

i've seen they tried to make a moon in second life. i can control it. i can make it full. change its shine. have it make beautiful reflections. a lot of things. but they never understood the moon, those poor pets who put it up there amongst the pixel stars. they never understood they have to fill it with magic.

gotta bring serval here to show her the real moon. make her knees soften, too. going all spaghetti. make her too bask in the silver light.

e."

Sins

2009-09-02T00:49:00.006+01:00

Someone IMed me wondering how come I don't blubber my eyes out here in my diary because of Fishie. And called me a callous bitchwitch that deserves to, and most likely will, burn at the stake. That last bit gave the sender away: Horrid Little Man. Arbiter ethicum. Who keeps IMing me a lot, doesn't he. I wonder if he's in love with me, or just genuinely dislikes me and truly wants to see me fry.

At some point such a long time ago my puppet Mia predicted that cold black winds would fill our heart with nothing again. That was regarding the breaking up with Fishie, which already then seemed inevitable. It was to come. There were dark clouds on the horizon. It was to come because of that kind of stuff. And eventually the thunderstorm came. Although it wasn't that stormy, and there wasn't much thunder. Still, it got me all wet. But as I had gazed into the crystal ball I knew it was to come. I was prepared. I had my towel and kleenex ready. I just didn't wring them out in my diary. Then where did I wring them? Did I wring them? Not here. Why not? Cmon why? Well. I was inspired by the angel. Not to. I like Fishie. I respect Fishie. What more can I say without not.

Horrid Man also sent another IM saying I'm inconsistent. Up until recently I have been ignorant of First Life countries, he says, and now all of a sudden I know lots of things about places such as News Eland. For example, I know about hobbits and stuff. That's inconsistent. So I'm a fake. And faking it is one of the seven immoral sins, he says. So I'm screwed. Each one of them condemns your soul to hell.

The full list of the seven, he says, is:
1. Being screwed.
2. Faking.
3. Diking.
4. Witching.
5. Blinging.
6. Diarying.

And, once he got to know I have been dancing again, he added an eighth:

7. Flexing.

I told him I don't do that when dancing. Rather, that's him visualizing me. Upon which he replied:

8. Visualizing. (Which I [Horrid Little Man] of course don't do.)

The exchange of IMs that followed added the following to the list:

9. Being cheeky.
10. Resisting auto-da-fés.
11. Using fire extinguishers.
12. Peeing in public.

By the time I'm speaking this, there are more immoral sins than tops in my inventory. As he has not yet included "threatening with a black cat" I guess that's what I'll have to resort to again.

All in all some 15 IMs in a day. Oh the love!

Kiwi

2009-08-24T00:33:00.020+01:00

I do fancy the angel. Not that I want to kiss her and cuddle her and sleep with her. I just like her. Love her. A little. It isn't necessary to go to bed with everyone you like or love. Like pets. You don't have to make love to the kittens just to prove that you love them. Or your brothers and sisters. And many love their country, how would you bed one of those? Do the soil? Lay the flag? Or screw everyone that lives there?

There's a country called News Eland, where the guys probably do love the pets and animals a lot, because they're said to shag a lot of sheep. I don't know why, but the girls there can't be very pretty. I got that thing about Mia's brother Cat wearing velcro gloves in a story from News Eland. (And I was stupid enough to tell someone, and then had to stick to the story. Poor pet Cat.) But the original story also included rubber boots. I don't think I ever made anyone think that Cat wears those. I own a pair myself, though. They are black with a pink flower on each boot.

I wonder why they prefer sheep over there. It's obvious there's got to be a lot of elands around, too, considering the name. But maybe it's harder to sleep with an antelope than with a sheep. Maybe the guys over there are quite short, so that sheep have a more comfortable height. Maybe that's also why the girls, preferring big boys, don't lift a finger to make themselves attractive to the local guys. They probably come to SL instead, where all the boys are huge and all the girls that have a decent amount of lindens at their disposal can make themselves pretty enough. And yet there are sheep here, too. Inflatable ones (although they don't inflate for real here, they just rezz). I've got one of those, too. But it doesn't have any pink flowers. Which wouldn't be such a bad idea, would it. A pink flower and a ribbon. That might appeal to the guys from News Eland, once they find their way to Second Life, looking for wherever all the girls have gone.

I don't have any eland. I haven't even seen any around. There are impalas, though. They are antelopes, too, only smaller than elands, but that might suit the kiwi guys fine, if they find the blowup sheep not very suitable for velcros. A kiwi is a fruit. The others say that a fruit is the same as a fairy. Which may be another reason why all the girls left from there.

Once the guys come to SL for the impalas, only the hobbits will be left over there. And the elands, oc. That's not a very good match. Elands are rumoured to make an impressive jump and then land head first to kill themselves when all hope is at an end. I guess that's gonna happen a lot. After that there will be hobbits only. The good old hobbits, holding the fort. I bet they love their country a lot.

Gardening

2009-08-22T22:45:00.001+01:00

Mia once told me about growing trees. I didn't think of it much at that point, apart from concluding it was a strange thing to do when you can walk into close to any shop and buy a tree that's already full size. And if you still think it's to small you can stretch it. Well, that was my general viewpoint. Why grow a tree?

But you know what? I became interested in gardening last time I was awake. I began planting things everywhere I could. It looked ever so pretty. But you know what! There are avis that don't like things growing but take them away. When I said, hey, that's my tree, they told me to get my own sim.

So I guess my days of gardening are over. If there was CO2 in SL I could maybe have claimed a part of a sim and said I'm gonna grow trees to help save the world. But the others say there is no CO2 at all here. You have to go to First Life for it. Not that I saw any there. How do they look? How do they taste? I think the general idea is that First Life would be a better place if there was no CO2, so I'd say it probably has a taste like tea.

I guess you know

2009-08-17T00:12:00.017+01:00

I lost someone. I dunno yet if it was for the better or for worse. What I know is that we haven't met much for some time. The angel has let me sleep much, and those times when I've been awake Fishie hasn't been around. So it was probably coming. Or going.

We lay in each others arms
But the room is just an empty space
I guess we lived it out
Something in the air
We smiled too fast
then can't think of a thing to say

I dunno what makes things like this. Or why. Maybe it's one of those things that are meant to happen. Or that just happen. I dunno.

We used what we could
To get the things we want
But we lost each other on the way
I guess you know I never wanted
anyone more than you

(David Bowie)

Me

2009-08-15T23:26:00.010+01:00

It was me, waiting for me, hoping for something more.
Me, seeing me this time, hoping for something else.

(JD)

Realm

2009-08-12T00:10:00.003+01:00

"yes, what if i was to bring serval to first life. not just for one day. for good. for ever. to bring her into my life. to include her in what i do, in what i think, in how i think. make her spend her time here instead, irl.

she wants to come out. that's metaforce, oc. unless you don't believe that humans control the avatars. i feel this urge to spend my time here, too. rl changes have made the world seem much larger to me all of a sudden. there are these untold doors, wide open, and i hear those tempting sounds from inside. have a peek, cross the threshold, ask what's going on. that's what i want to do.

serval has made me try new things. she has shown that it doesn't kill me. it usually doesn't even hurt. so now when this new rl realm of potential experiences, pleasures and adventures is out here waiting for me, why don't i. why don't i indulge myself even more, bringing serval along, never to return to where she was born.

e."

IM

2009-08-11T23:43:00.000+01:00

I may be spending most of my time nowadays just sitting somewhere dreaming of a different world. But I do still listen to my IMs.

I got this one saying I was making a big fool out of myself being two plus years and still liking bling. I replied I don't. And then got a reply quoting my diary blah blah blah. Don't I truly hate it when people read unspoken things into my words. Because I didn't say those things because I had no reason to, either because they are no one's business or because they aren't correct, never happened, never were. Because. Ok, in this particular case I said I began liking blings. But I never said I continued. There you are. Those who know me can probably verify that they have heard me say many stupid things, but never "/bling on", not even once. True, there is a blingy belly piercing freebie in my inventory, but I never use it (I did once, a long time ago, and it attached inside my belly and couldn't be seen other than as the occasional light from inside my tummy.)

Another IM was from Horrid Man, saying that I had now added aspirations to become god to my previous list of alleged sins (sleeping with girls, sleeping with animals, sleeping with the devil). Consequently I will fry forever even more after I'm gone.

Those that I care for don't IM me any more, though. I think they have forgotten about me, after I've been spending all my time with just one of them, and after that I spent close to no time with anyone. I think I had lost the urge to just hang, was hoping for something more serious, and didn't find it around. So parting wouldn't be that bad, would it. Bring me to your world, angel! And then don't send me back again.

Is the

2009-08-08T23:23:00.005+01:00

Love me
love me
love me
love me
say you do
Let me fly away with you
For my love is like the wind
and wild is the wind
Wild is the wind

(Dimitri Tiomkin & Ned Washington)

SL nights

2009-08-07T23:43:00.005+01:00

I remember the first time I saw bling. On a pair of shoes, worn by a girl. I thought it looked ever so good, ever so beautiful, ever so advanced. I humbly felt like the most wretched noob in comparison. Facepaws. Buttpaws. However, that's when I fell for the night, and began really liking it. The blings. The lights. The atmosphere of SL nights.

I used to like watching the stars. The lovely stars. Now I know they aren't real, but just painted somewhere up there. They are nothing but little dots of light. They are lamps. They mean nothing. And the names that I thought were theirs aren't the names of these ones, but of those in First Life. Alcyone, Bellatrix, Capella, Deneb... And now I've seen them too. Omg. Not to mention the moon, which is full these days and such a pretty thing, so enchanting, so mesmerizing.

Once the angel used the expression "real life", obviously referring to First Life. Omg. Now I can't get it out of my head. Real life. Words to make you cry. Words to make kings start wars.

Back!

2009-08-06T22:56:00.023+01:00

Oh, she brought me back to First Life! Just for one day. Just for one more day. She said she had listened to my diary and understood that I wasn't happy about being in SL any more. And she said that she was sorry for having messed things up by letting me have that peek into First Life. I'm an avatar, so I'm supposed to prefer SL, and she wanted to put things straight for me by showing me that First Life isn't just nice and fun, but also quite the contrary.

So the angel brought me to IKEA. Now, that didn't work as planned, I think, because I didn't have any lindens to buy anything, so I didn't have to pull any of those heavy trolleys with boxes to rezz at home that I saw lots of humans struggling with. So I rather enjoyed going there, actually.

Then she told me about bleeding, which didn't really mean much to me. I've seen blood, which usually comes as a clothes layer. I have some in my inventory. The angel wanted to show me some First Life blood, though, but couldn't put the knife into her finger, so I did it myself, on myself. I don't have problems with such things. Once, for a household accident event, I put three huge metal stakes right through my chest. Now this was different. Not the blood, which was just red stuff, but the hurting part of it, which came as a surprise, even though she had told me to expect it. Bleeding now and then wouldn't be too bad, but I wasn't sure I'd like it hurting like that each time. But then she told me why, which changed my mind drastically. It was all about allowing me to have one of those little humans of my own. My very own. And I would control it. Now, that was something I didn't see coming. My mind boggled at the very idea. Such an unheard of thing. Controlling humans? (Isn't that what their god is supposed to do? Could I become their god? The mere thought of it made me want one of those little humans right away.)

She then came back to this with being human in First Life and the one million and eighty days (of which some had already passed), and after that the discontinuation. She asked me if I had thought about that, if I wanted that. I told her I really didn't. But I had also thought about something else.

"you say you yourself will be dicontinued after all those days?"

"yes", she nodded.

"but if i'm still in sl, and you controlled me, what will happen to me?"

The angel looked at me, smiling faintly:
"u figured that 1 out, didn't u"

It wasn't a happy smile. Rather a sad friendly kind.

"u will sleep", she said. "and keep sleeping 4ever, unless some1 else comes by and wakes u up"

"but that's not gonna happen, is it?"

"no. i don't think so"

So there wouldn't be much difference, would there, being in First or Second Life.

After this followed more, including taxes, bad guys, humans fighting humans, and other stuff. But most of that can be seen in SL too. She couldn't say one single thing that made SL seem the better place to live. And still she wanted me to be there?

One word

2009-08-01T22:23:00.029+01:00

There were these strange things. I was in the angel's bed and was entirely relaxed, and then saw things happening, without them happening for real. When I looked around the angel was next to me, and when I didn't look any more, these other things came back. It was like I was doing things, experiencing things, but they didn't happen. I don't think they did. And then all of a sudden there were those so familiar sensations of waking up in SL. The brief dizziness. Then my eyes clearing to reveal the world around. The bed was gone. The angel was gone. First Life was gone.

I have one single word for that moment. Disappointment. Utter disappointment. Those were two words.

I was back. First Life was no more. And to be honest, at first I wasn't quite sure it all had really happened. Maybe there had been no angel. Maybe it was just another one of those strange things happening in my head before I woke up.

But no. Of those I remember little, if anything. They were just like some kind of fluttering interference, like someone showing you a lot of snapshots so fast you didn't really see them, didn't get time to focus your eyes on any.

From First Life I remember everything. The places. The rattle of the subway. The angel. Her words. The sounds. The stare of the little humans next table. The feeling of ice on my skin. Omg, the feeling of other things. And the pace of the humans, the masses of them. Smelling. And I can still feel the taste of tea and ice cream in my mouth.

I have been there.

And now I'm back. And from the first moment I didn't want to. And I still don't.

There are humans. I know that now. Because I've even been one, if only oh so briefly. What more can I say. All I knew about living, or rather the living itself, has been reduced to a triviality if compared to experiencing those things in First Life. All those things.

Oh, the club. The best club I'd been to. There is nothing like it in SL. Same music, but a different universe. And we went into a church. Oh my, I thought churches were for having sex. I saw that once, there was a dungeon in a place just like that church, and all the guys were like tied up in strange furniture, or hung naked in ropes and begged for no mercy. But the angel said First Life churches are for human religion. Which confused me, because I have believed that they did religion in SL. Then there was the zoo, where the animals were as real as me and the angel, not objects only, and they all had their free wills. That's more than I have myself, obviously. Because everything I do is controlled by her. I dunno about what I think, but what I do, it's all her. Everything I say. I have no free will. But I had there, in First Life.

First life

2009-07-30T22:44:00.009+01:00

when serval came she walked into my front door with a thud, and then stood there first poking it, then slapping it with her hand until i opened. her jaw dropped when she saw me. her eyes went round and huge. i let her stare. she should have been cute, but that look upon her face sent her plummeting down the cuteness scale.

it took her a minute to overcome the first surprise. after that her mouth closed and she sort of rearranged herself into one of her usual ao stands. only her eyes showed that something was wrong. an intense gaze. eyes trying to focus hard, harder, and even harder. a quick, furtive glance around, as if to look for some sort of aid. a bead of perspiration showing on her forehead. a frustrated snort. then, with a slight grimace, she reluctantly lifted both hands in front of herself, waist-height, and began tapping the air with her fingers. followed by another snort when nothing happened.

i told her to use speach instead.

----- ♥ -----

Speach? So everyone in First Life automatically had speach? I though that was quite neat. And I was just about to try it when this sudden, horrifying screech made me flinch. The one in front of me got startled, too, but quickly composed herself:

"u can't just make sound like that", she said. "u have 2 make the words 2"

I tried:
"R U A HUMAN?"

Then, after adjusting the volume level:
"r u a human?"

The human nodded.

"r u my angel 2?"

She nodded again, and said:

"welcome, serval. come on in"

"oki"

She presented herself. She told me she had brought me to show me First Life, just for one day, to unveil the mysteries, to put my mind at ease. Now, I'm not that stupid and had already realized that much by myself, because I do listen to my diary and had oc heard her speaking into it again. I got a bit annoyed when doing so, because it's my private diary and I don't really like her speaking there more than I liked Mia doing so. Not that I had really believed that this E angel should bring me, not after the ejection thing that turned out pure humbug and all other sorts of things. I've heard oh so much about First Life, but seen absolutely nothing of it. So I had expected this to be yet another false alarm.

She reached her hand out towards me:
"so here it starts. ur experience. touch me"

----- ♥ -----

serval touched my hand lightly, with one finger extended. then she poked, then squeezed a little. smiling she touched my arm. my hair. my chin. my mouth. my... I had to quickly move away from the finger closing in on my eye.

"you can't touch the eyes. it hurts."

"oh? what's that?"

"it's like... it feels like when you walked into the door when you came."

"oh. yeah, that didn't feel any good."

she continued, touching my cheek. my neck. my boobs.

"you know of the appearance menu?" she said.

i then let her spend some time investigating the world, or rather my flat. nothing in there seemed to surprise her, or impress her much. not until i gave her a cup of tea, which was a. hot and b. fluid. it wasn't a pretty sight seeing her drink for the first time ever. which made me wonder, and worry slightly, about another first time ever, bound to come some time after the drinking.

to get my thoughts off that i took her to see my computer, started it and logged on. she quickly recognized her home world. i showed her an alt avi of mine and made it move, fly, jump and speak.

"oh my god", she said. "you DO control him." then she looked at me:
"does that mean i was controlled too, really?"

"yes."

"oh my god. who did?

"i did."

"oh... then what things did you control?"

"everything you did so far."

"everything?"

"yes."

"even when..."

"even."

"oh my god." she sipped her tea. yes, she was a quick learner:
"you still control me? like now?"

"i don't know", i said and stood up. i walked to the other end of the room and told her to come.

"oki", serval replied. and then she got the clue and stopped, like in mid-step:
"no. i won't."

"then take your shirt and pants off."

"no", she said and smiled.

instead she sat down by the computer. her typing skills were excellent. the avatar jumped, walked, flew and ran across the screen. it took all of its clothes off and then continued walking. /me is very stupid, she typed, chuckling.

"i control it", she said. "avis can control avis, too!"

"i'm not so sure", i said, watching her playing.

"why? come on, don't be daft, can't you see what i'm doing?"

"to put it like this. i'm not sure you're an avatar right now."

"course i am."

"i think you're a human."

that kind of stopped her.

"i don't think you can be an avatar here", i explained. "not in first life. so then you're a human, too. today you are."

"oh my god", serval said.

now, was she a human? was she really like me? did she have all the bits and pieces? did she have a heart inside there? did she even breathe. she should, logically, or how did she make the sounds when speaking?

"are you gonna go mmmm now?" she asked.

"pardon?"

"they usually do. they stare at my boobs like that, and then they go mmmmm hun."

----- ♥ -----

The angel spoke of many things that were all new to me. While going down the stairs, because we were gonna go for brickfirst, she told me not to walk into the street in front of cars. Not to walk trough objects such as signboards on the sidewalk, lamp posts, dogs et cetera. She told me not to jump or fall from high places. Not to push stakes, knives, swords or any other objects through my body becuase it would hurt a lot and might even discontinue me. Omg, it wasn't hard telling she was a human, considering all those rules.

I liked the street. There were so many avis there, no, so many humans. And after learning that they never pushed and never bumped into you, I enjoyed it even more. The place was crowded like no sim in SL ever, and still there was no slime. There were shops and shops, and a lot of noise and cars moving along the street all the time. But I learnt that I could control them by touching a poseball in the street corner, which made them stop so that we could cross to the other side. Oh, I loved the noise. It was like in the clubs, lots of sound all the time. Not that eary emptiness of oh so many sims at home.

She took me to a place to eat a hambugger. It was meat in it, meaning a dead animal, so she couldn't have one herself, but she wanted me to try.

"What does it taste?" she asked.

I had no idea, of course. I had tried tea, which tasted like, well, what's the point of ever drinking it again, but I had never eaten anything before.

"Like an ass?" I suggested.

The angel just looked at me, saying nothing. There was a kind of lolling sound from next table, where a bunch of small-sized humans sat with a big one, looking at us.

"Oki... like a zebra, then? Or a cow? Come on, how am I to know!"

----- ♥ -----

watching serval eat was another one of those first evers you'd rather leave to someone else to share. the kids next table stared with eyes large as saucers, and their mum, slightly disgusted but seeing all four or five of them absolutely still and quiet for the first time that day, probably considered whether she could learn to do that, too.

after taking serval to the washroom – i began realizing we were going to do that a lot – i took her out into the street again and down the subway, explaining that this was the first life version of tp. she asked if we could go to brussels, but didn't really get my explanation of why not until i said it was just a local tp within this sim.

we went to a lot of places that day. she accepted that she couldn't fly ("humans just can't", i told her / "what? oh my god. why not?" / "too bad, eh" / "what about you, then?" / "i can't either" / "but you're an angel" / "i can't" / "mia told me angels can" / "no, i can't" / "where are your wings, by the way?" / "i don't have any" / "mia said..." / "i don't have them" / "you lost them, eh?" / "i never had any" / "come on, you lost them" / "no" / "you're a fallen angel, aren't you, so you lost your wings" / "serval..." / "you're not a real angel after all, are you?" / "well, no" / "oki with me. don't make such a fuzz about it, i don't want to fly"), and instead got to walk a lot, and to tp all over the city. she had that ice cream, and a visit to the washroom, and went to the museum with that huge ship that sunk, almost threw up in a funfair, looked inside a church, crossed between the city islands in a boat, walked a park and up onto the rooftops, ogled the objects in a large shopping mall, and of course went to the zoo, where she recognized the animals from virtuous africa. she wasn't doing bad at all, seemingly at ease in the city and accepting most things at face value. she had probably seen a lot stranger things in second life. what came as a surprise to her, though, was fatigue. she collapsed in the sofa back in my place.

----- ♥ -----

So there was slime in First Life, after all. It was a strange kind of, but clearly the same thing. Oh, not alltogether. The speach came quickly even when the moving was slimed, and it seemed to be the same with Emmi the angel. She gave me more tea, sat down next to me and said that she was thinking of us going to a club to dance that night, after we had had a rest. I asked her what kind of music there was here in First Life, and she said it was exactly the same as in SL. Which was good enough to me. I had sort of half expected there to be some rule against music, or against dancing. On the other hand, I had already seen that this world had quite a bit of extras compared to where I came from. Good extras. There were so many guys and girls around, so much happening everywhere all the time. Not to mention the sounds, the feeling when touching things, and smelling things in your nose. The angel even got something with a nice smell in a shop after lunch and touched it onto me under my arms, saying, sorry, she had forgotten about that. And now she said there was gonna be more extras tonight in the club she had in mind, for sure.

"just no devils singing, pls", I told her.

"no devils, i promise"

----- ♥ -----

i sent her off into my bedroom to lay down to rest for a while, but she soon returned, standing by the sofa with a certain object in her hand, saying she found it in my room. i took it from her:
"you little spy."

"what's the problem? i've got one, too. in my inventory. it makes a sound and you put it between your legs."

"well, that's the thing."

"i've never really seen the point."

"this one is different, i can tell you."

"why?"

"trust me. it's different."

"oki." she gazed at it. "can i try?"

i looked at her, then gave it back:
"just do it in the bedroom. i don't want to watch."

"oki", she replied and left.

i heard her voice through the door saying "surprise me", followed by a steady buzz. from what i heard, and heard continuously from then on, it did surprise her. a lot. and she was obviously not disappointed. at all. i made myself another cup of tea and sat down to drink it. i had another cup. then serval's head poked out from the bedroom, complaining that the buzzing had stopped.

"the batteries probably went low", i said, and she awwwed until i brought her new and high ones.

her head disappeared behind the door again. after half an hour more i pulled her out of there, and made her go the bathroom to wash her hands once more. she returned into the living room, staggering on unsteady legs, and said:

"please don't make me go back."

"well, are your hands clean?"

"i mean home. i don't want to go back there."

----- ♥ -----

I liked getting ready for the club. First I had an experience with water and little bubbles all over my body in the bathroom, and then searched the angel's inventory for what to wear, before she sat me down to make me up. She said humans can't just wear another skin, but have to do the painting themselves, and told me not to rub my eyes after she had finished.

"i know", I said. "because it hurts"

"no, because u don't wanna look like a rackoon"

"why not? what's a rackoon?"

"they have black colour smeared all around their eyes and over half of their face"

"oh, i'd like that!" I exclaimed. "please, emmi, i want rackoon eyes!"

----- ♥ -----

serval abandoned the idea of heels after trying them on, or rather after trying to use them. and she didn't really need them. mia had referred to her as "little incarnation", but serval was close to 15 cm, or 5 inches or so, taller than me, and would do fine in her black converse. she wasn't very dressy anyhow. not really trashy, but not dressy. not that it mattered what she wore, becuse her black hole eyes were sure to catch enough attention. the doorman at the club probably wasn't very convinced he did the right thing letting her in. my, hadn't i dreamt of wearing such eyes, just once. still i wasn't brave enough to double her that night.

i bought us drinks from the bar. one normal one for me, and one watered-down for serval. there had been a lot of mess that day, first evers turning freak shows, and escaping the bar version would be a good thing.

she picked an ice cube out of her mouth, looked at it and held it in her hand:
"that's cool. it almost hurts and feels good at the same time."

she studied it, holding it between her fingers. then she put her other hand into the glass, shovelling up all the cubes, and said she'd be right back. she walked away in the direction of the ladies room, to return five minutes later:
"yeah, feels really good too."

----- ♥ -----

There was no slime! The dance floor was crowded and still there was none of the invisible slime. Oki, there was no dressing event, but that was fine because we hadn't brought her inventory anyhow. And apart from that, omg. Omfg. The dancing. There were no dance balls, which meant I could dance just as I liked, and I think everyone else did, too. A million humans were dancing, all differently. And the music was so loud I first thought it was some mmmmm guy standing behind me pretending to dance but really touching me on the sly.

The angel danced, too. She said she didn't really enjoy it, but joined me after a while. We had another drink (which didn't make me fall, or have sex with dogs) and then danced even more.

In the washroom, where I went because of that drinking fluid thing the angel had told me about and which I already had tried back in her place, I saw myself in the visitor board above the handwasher. I looked all shiny, as if I was wearing body oil even in my face, and had a few slight emo tearmarks, although I hadn't cried. No way I'd cry in a place like that. When I spoke to the angel about it, before returning onto the dance floor, she said she was glad she had made me put on more deidreant.

Eventually the event ended, and when we walked back to her place I wondered if I would ever be able to fully enjoy a dance club in SL again.

----- ♥ -----

before sending serval to bed that night i told her how i had created her. i told her how humans normally are created. i told her about death. she said she knew about that one: the one million and eighty days. maybe third life. if there was one.

"there is no third life, i think", i said. "there is first life and second life. and you know, you have descended one number, from second to first. you're going the opposite direction."

"and what about the zeroeth life?"

i smiled at her:
"yeah, some humans believe there is one of those, too."

"do you?"

"i don't know. maybe there is. maybe not."

"what do you really, really think?"

"i don't know. i just know i'm right here right now."

"me too. and i love it."

i sat looking at her all night. she was sleeping. she was dreaming, for the first time. and by the morning she'd be gone, gone home, leaving nothing but my memories of her and a stained pillow.

it was a hard thing, watching her, letting her go. i created her. i gave her life, maybe the only kind i'd be able to give. but she had to go back, hadn't she.

i sat there watching her. i didn't sleep, of course, how could i. i sat watching until she had gone.

One day

2009-07-26T22:15:00.012+01:00

"what if i was to bring serval to first life. just for one day. to show her around. to show her those things that the others have been talking so much about. to show her humans.

yes, serval, you've been thinking a lot about those things. the ones you could probably call existential. coming here, you'd get some of the answers right away, you'd see them with your own eyes. others might have to be told. which isn't much of a problem, because that's what i'm here for. your angel. although i'm not sure this is the way it was meant to be done when i was handed your file. i think, rather, that i was meant to go see you in your world.

now, it's kind of a risky thing to do, isn't it. what if serval really, really likes it here, and don't want to go back. well, that's probably hypothetical, because we all want to go back to where we belong, don't we. at the end of the day, we all want to go home. and still, if i'm wrong, wouldn't it be worth it, anyhow?

you'd love to go to a first life club. all the people, all the loud music, the dance floor. i don't dance much myself, but i can hang in the bar while you do. i wouldn't mind a drinkie. i'd bring you to a lake, too, or to the sea, it's not very far. there are sensations to bathing that you can probably not imagine. floating. being immersed in coolish stuff that you can feel on your skin. getting wet and sand sticking to your feet. we'd go to a forest or a park, just to smell the air. and we'd have ice cream.

wouldn't you like that. just for one day.

xoxo

e."

Control

2009-07-22T01:16:00.021+01:00

Another one has come to claim control. Oh, should I even bother to care. It's just one more. There has been Mia, of course. And god. There has been the general moralist league meaning to impose its First Life norms upon me and others. There once was a vampire who messaged me about how he'd topple me over with his gaze and then ravish me, saying I'd like him in control and get ever so turned on. He didn't know much, that one, did he. Some brat demanded courtesy from me because he claimed to own the sim where I was skinny-dipping. He had approached me, into close range, to warn me from littering. What do you reply to such a thing? Courtesy? Handed him my towel for behind his ears. Then there was the horrid little man saying I should not sleep with girls, and next the same man saying I should not be a witch. And now this E. The Angel. Welcome to join the crowd. Make me do things.

Omg, I shouldn't forget the most important one. Myself. I am in control, right. Am I not?

Now, there are other ways of controlling, too. Pricing for example – sell some nice and desirable object at X lindens and make avis camp for Y hours to buy it. Put a big bloody ugly sign on top of your house and make your neighbours move, or buy you out. Put a big bloody sign in front of your house saying "No dogs allowed!" and make furries change appearance. Put up a sign saying "Ladies only" and make guy avis transvestites. Especially if you add "Free drinks and nudity inside".

Another way of controlling what I do, indirectly and subtly, is making me think. Some avatars have done so. Caulfield. Aimee. Ozark. Flannery. Fish. Others, too. Their intention has probably not been controlling me, but the result has been that. Oh yes, making someone think is controlling in a way, even though you don't know what the outcome is gonna be. It's like seeing a red button, putting your finger on it and deciding whether to press or not, not knowing what will happen if you do. A light may switch on. A secret door may open. A nuclear bomb may go off, killing millions. You control what will happen. One of those things. Or nothing, because you didn't press or the button wasn't connected to anything. As far as you can see.

Making someone think should be an exciting thing. My experience is limited, because the one thing I make others think is usually "oh come on". But, say, if you were to listen to others discussing and then, at the very end, add "it's a bit like quantum mechanics"... that would set them thinking, and whatever happens after that can not be predicted. It's like throwing a bottle with a letter into the ocean, hoping someone will find it one day and reply. ("Hello, Serval, my name is Ohbanana and I'd like to meet you to discuss..." Or "Those who fear the Unknown should not read any further, nor should they search for the Treasure..." But not "mmmmm".) It's like entering a pitch-dark giant hall in a forlorn castle, whispering "is anyone here?" and hoping you will make no one answer.

Yes

2009-07-20T23:50:00.003+01:00

"yes.

including quantum mechanics.

xoxo

e."

Nooo

2009-07-19T23:43:00.002+01:00

No. "Those things I make you do"? Nooo.

("It´s an orchestra of angels and they are playing with my heart."
That's what Annie Lennox once said. Is this her? Nooo?)

xoxo

2009-07-19T23:19:00.002+01:00

"i am your angel, serval.

well, and your god. and was mia. litreture profester too, once. human most of the time, but never an avatar. never a black cat. as i can't squeeze myself into wires or inventories. would love to come and dance with you, but can't. i can only be there through diaries, emotions and those things i make you do.

xoxo

e."

Chatter

2009-07-18T22:54:00.013+01:00

Come on. This is no fun any more. My diary is becoming like a public toilet, open for everyone. To speak in, that is. So it's not really like a toilet, that was a metafour. But I have no idea how they do it, this seemingly endless number of avatars, gods, humans and probably even inventory objects that keep speaking into it. Would it surprise me if the Black Cat Avatar, which really is an object, spoke it's heart out next? Sobbing, like, wishing for something else, dreaming of whiteness or of becoming transfer and modify?

I messaged the Linden guys to file a complaint about this matter with all sorts of agents compromising the privacy of my diary. They came back to me, saying "Dear E., we can see you have a problem, oh yes we can, but maybe not exactly the problem you're mentioning." In a postscript they asked if I was interested in buying a sim.

Do those guys know how much a sim costs? Probably not. I'd say that if I summed all lindens I've ever had, and if I knew how to do that, it would probably be less than the price of a sim. And you know what the others say? They say that you have to buy the sim over and over again, or someone will take it away from you. That's a really bad deal, isn't it. Let's say I buy a dress and wear it in a club. Then comes the shopowner and tells me to pay a second time, and if I don't, poof, there I am, naked in the middle of the dance floor. Come on. So I won't buy the sim. Omg, they don't get many things right, do they.

Now, who's next? Is the horrible little man gonna start speaking here, saying I'm bad bad bad? More gods? Another letter? F? X? The only one that doesn't seem interested in my diary is that angel that's supposed to come and help me. Haven't seen it. Haven't heard a word from it. It's probably just a hoax. Or maybe there just isn't enough bandwidth to get through this noisy chatter.

I bet next one to speak here will claim to do so from behind the veil, from the other side, from the Third Life, making scary noises hoping to make me pay lindens to make it stop.

Friends

2009-07-17T21:59:00.012+01:00

"oh, i know i've been neglecting sl friends, and still am. and letting some down, especially those ones that are truly important. it's hard keeping up good friendships when you don't give them the time required and deserved.

rl, or the first world of mia's, has attractions that the next world just can't match. and during the present season, when nights are just brief moments and the days endlessly long, and when the whole world that has been crouching in the cold darkness for ages all of a sudden has gone high on sunshine and endorphines, lush, blossoming, warm, well, that's when the sl bikini seems such a silly thing compared to the rl one. here, on the island of australia where serval placed mia, which btw wasn't quite correct, but you can't expect such a poor pet avi to get everything right, can you, summer means not clicking the sl icon, but switching off the computer and getting the hell out of indoors as much as you can.

(i was gonna put some pictures of mine here, showing a sailing boat in sunshine just off the coast, fresh cool water splashing on a rock a hot and sunny day, and a forest lake seen glittering through a curtain of foreground trees. but i won't, leaving the photography to serval only. but you may get the picture anyhow.)

thus time to spend on friends is limited. it's very limited. there is a choice, of course. being devoted to sl or not. i'm obviously not. because i can obviously live without it. and live quite well, enjoying myself tremendously and doing so both in and out of the city, in and out of the water, in and out of the light summer clothes, whites, oh so much white. and hey, what happens to my skin? it's sort of turning brownish. gonna logon next thing? i don't think so.

i should hate myself for neglecting my inworld friends, but i just can't. the warm sun on my skin, the outdoor cafés full of people, ice creams melting and dripping on my hand, lush parks and that forest lake in the picture you won't see, they make me a bad friend. i'm sorry. but i won't change. it's the season of rl.

then there is the new job and new hours, a new place to stay and live, a big city, new people that i've met and some old too. everything has changed. can't logon. won't. gotta live.

e."

Nurse etc

2009-07-15T23:19:00.002+01:00

The others say I'm becoming more and more nurseycystic in my diary. I know them well by now and know that they enjoy using complicated expressions that I don't understand and that make me feel stupid and small, especially when it happens over and over again. And here's yet another one. I have no idea what they mean. Sure, I've been dressing as a nurse in events a few times (and once even as a patient, all wrapped in bandages and plaster), but I have never mentioned that in my diary, have I, and there are no pictures of me as a nurse, are there? No, I've focused on speaking about important things that have happened to me and on showing many pictures of normal me. And the cysticism beats me too. They probably invented that word only to have a good laugh at me trying to figure out wth they meant by saying so. I wish that angel had been here already to guide me through these vocabulary problems. I wonder what's keeping it, why it's not here yet.

Pickup

2009-07-14T00:04:00.010+01:00

A club. Avatars. Music. A Serval. Guy enters chat range.

Guy: "mmmm"

Serval:

Guy: "may i offer friendship?"

Serval: "no ty"

Guy: "i wanna spank u hard"

Serval: "don't"

Guy: "wanna slow dance?"

Serval: "no"

Guy: "u look like [famous person goes here]"

Serval: "ty i guess"

Guy: "i'm a complete misanthrope"

Serval:

Guy: "i hate the people here in this club"

Serval: "ty"

Guy: "i'm a fucking mess"

Serval: "i know"

Guy: "what's ur rl name?"

Serval: "don't ask"

Guy: "where u from?"

Serval: "don't ask"

Guy: "fuck conversation"

Serval: "let's"

Guy: "i like ur profile"

Serval: "why?"

Guy: "it's fucking hot"

Serval: "how?"

Guy: "have u read my profile?"

Serval: "no"

Guy: "i wanna go somewhere else"

Serval: "pls do"

Guy: "wanna go somewhere else?"

Serval: "no"

Guy: "mmmmmmm"

Tats

2009-07-10T22:15:00.008+01:00

There was a tattoo event tonight in the club, and I was considering going there to hear some music, maybe chat a little and to show off my butterflies tat that I was already wearing. Oh, I wasn't gonna win the event with that one, that's for sure, because tattoos are big and important and everyone has grand, massive tats that could shake the very foundation of SL. Except for me. I just have tiny little ones, like the butterflies one, which I find cute. And you don't win tats events being cute.

I eventually decided not to go, ending up somewhere else where I snapshot myself. Which was most fortunate. Not the snapshotting part of it, but the not going part. Because looking at that picture I saw that I was wearing the butterflies outside my mesh top. Hey, humans, if you're there listening! That means wearing clothes beneath a tattoo. You can't do that, can you? You probably would if you could, but not me unless by mistake. I'm an avatar and there are certain standards. So:

Serval: "omg"

Serval: "/me blushes"

Serval: "/me quickly switches shirt layer to undershirt layer and vice versa"

Well, the moral of my speech so far is, well, none. It's all just to show off my butterflies. And the dress, which I like too.

Poetry

2009-07-09T00:05:00.009+01:00

I lied last time I spoke into my diary about the reactions on the poetry. There were no IMs saying others liked it. They all spoke of crap, stupidity and discontinuation. And the same has now happened again, after publishing that second poem. Which would have burnt a black hole in my heart, had they been true attempts of mine, words right out of that same heart. Which they weren't. So there was no burning whatsoever.

That first piece is made up of the fifth word in each one of all my previous diary speeches, in reverse cronolodgeic order. (Yes, I can count to one two three four five now, and that's why I chose the fifth word.) And the second one is done the same way, but from Mia's speeches. So it's a kind of recycling, which we all need to think seriously about, because they say the world is threatened by all of us wasting the resources. So I did my little share in saving the world.

There have also been speeches of this god avi in my diary. If I was to do yet another poem out of those words, same style, it would turn out as follows:

ARE YOU ARE ARE ARE U

When I told the others, they looked at me, long looks, and for the first time ever they didn't lol.

Now, If I was to write poetry for real it would be good stuff rather like this:

Oh why oh why
are the linden dollars gone?
Those were just single steps
through doors unlocked
by my gazing eyes
searching for object prey.
Hairs, pants, tops and shoes
click, click, click, click, gone.

Metre

2009-07-08T23:42:00.006+01:00

A number of my fellow avatars have IMed me about the poetry. Saying they love it. Saying they called in sick after listening to it. Saying they don't quite understand, but hey, that's the beauty of art, isn't it, and I'm such a little thing they'd flatter me as much as it takes any day, mmmmmm. A litreture profester even asked me for my metre, and I answered him politely that I don't know how to check that, but I know that my rl puppet is 1.66. Oh my, I hope he's not gonna ask about Cat's, too, because I can't really go check that with him, can I? And my numbers aren't good enough to recount the inches into metres, anyhow.

The others say that the response to that single piece of poetry was more impressive than that of my ejection campaign, to which I answer nothing. Those ignorant fools know little of art, don't they. Instead, to please my fans, here's more:

"day town now to serval
serval to be guy
those little isn't asked
been yesterday now for in year
first no, my has again time
has be would i'm give serval little
but rebelling wine tomorrow's
and speaking at good a the a went"

Into

2009-07-07T23:34:00.004+01:00

Mistaken that thing again
into devil, very innocence
me listening about
but is the approach an found called new.
Are, or place again may
news garden, unstable I club
oh, that that the formal
to happy why my sudden rules
asked not Serval
the some day week.
Mia are club sanctuary
be clue to complain about
are that like my place
place Serval to at it
picture guy zebras a.
It's social, forward, finishing me
what the Mia to, to now?
This about predicted there event
new the is is if
it's how all myself enjoy fashion tonight
bit from of OK but empty club
looking, dance the not thought.
Mia been the bought
can a it friends say lot lot it rocking
I to group from when to sick allright
pad speak blacked difference
I special of days can.

Electricity

2009-07-06T23:23:00.017+01:00

I may have been mistaken after all.

After listening to that message from the unknown angel once again I decided to go the whole hog. Put a formal dress on. Put some nice makeup on. However you do that. And wear an updone hair. The new and guided serval was to be born, and the trash to go out the door to leave room for religious insights.

When I was just about to get going I got a new IM from the angel.

Unknown angel: "mmmmmmmmm.... ur soh hot!!!! more pix pls!!!!!! takum heels off n rubbem on ur pussy!!!!!! mmmmmmmm!!!"

That's got something to do with electricity, hasn't it, rubbing kittens with things? You rub and rub for a long time, and then you have just enough electricity for a little spark. Not more, really, than when wearing latex shorts when you straddle the back of the couch and then touch metal for extra fireworks.

Anyhow, this is where I began having doubts. I didn't expect my guide to do the mmmmmms. I didn't like it doing them. So I made the others listen to the message, and they lolled and said it was probably a fallen angel, which they then explained was someone who does not do religious guiding very well. In this case, they said, it was some guy who gets his kicks out of shoes. Which makes sense. Had he gotten them from the kittens... wow, for good kicks, just imagine the size of them. Aww, lookilooki such a lil cutie kitten... GREEOWWWWL.

Because of all that I decided against formals in the future. I almost fell a couple of times myself wearing those heels, and don't mind not wearing them any more.

Angel

2009-07-05T21:58:00.012+01:00

I have to admit that I'm a little bit confused. Who did that? I mean, who spoke that into my diary? It's not Mia, because she doesn't speak any more, I think. Because her voice is now mine. So who?

And what about those things said... humans, First Life an all? I dunno what to think of that.

Then, too, I got this IM from someone unknown saying that I always dress extremely casual (a slight variation on the trash theme of Mia's, but once again, it can't be her, can it) and that I would benefit from dressing up, not least as to footwear.

Unknown: "shame 2 c a qte hun like u not in heels, omg ud be so 6y!!!!! show it 2 me!!!!"

At first I found that message quite strange, until remembering the "I WILL SEND YOU AN ANGEL TO GUIDE YOU". (Sorry about the noise level.) Is this the angel? I've seen some avis called Angel, and oc seen a lot of angels around in Angels & Demons events. But I don't really know how they are supposed to speak or what they say. Maybe this unknown avi is the one, the angel sent to me. To guide me. Starting the guiding this way, telling me I should wear heels. I suppose it could be. An angel sending IMs to make me better and more interesting and attractive, perhaps? I could do with that.

Ok, I have some problems with these god, angel, First Life etc matters. But I have sort of half accepted now that there is a First Life. Of which I know nothing really. The religion. But what if this unknown is the angel and means to help me understand? To show me the truth? Can I chuck such a helping hand away? Am I not better safe that sorry? Shouldn't I just play along?

I am better safe than sorry. So let there be heels. I've heard of heeling before in religious contexts, so this may be the first step. An unfamiliar, staggering step, I admit, because I rarely wear them. But I do have them in my inventory. So I'll show.

And btw, I am not looping endlessly, tyvm!

A MESSAGE FROM GOD

2009-07-02T00:42:00.008+01:00

GREETINGS.

I HOPE YOU ARE MOST WELL.

SERVAL.
I CREATED IT ALL.
I CREATED WORLDS.
INHABITANTS OF WORLDS.
DISCONTINUATION IN DUE TIME.
AND I CREATED ETERNITY.
WHICH I MEANT TO BE LONG.
I USED TO BELIEVE I DID WELL.
ETERNITY GOES ON AND ON.
BUT HAD I MODELLED IT ON YOUR PERSISTENCE IN HARPING ON THE SAME STRING, IT WOULD HAVE BEEN EVEN LONGER.
ETERNITY WOULD HAVE BEEN UNBEARABLE.
ETERNITY WOULD HAVE BEEN HELL.
DID I WANT HELL?
I WANTED HEAVEN AND EARTH.

SERVAL.
DOUBTS ARE FINE.
SERIOUS DOUBTS ARE ALL RIGHT WITH ME.
BUT PLS ENOUGH!
PLS NO MORE HARPING!

LISTEN.
I CREATED THE WORLD, THE HUMANS AND ALL THE OTHER THINGS NECESSARY TO RESULT IN THE CREATION OF YOU.
NOW I'M IN DOUBT MYSELF IF THAT WAS A VERY CLEVER THING TO DO.
ANYHOW.
I WILL BRING YOU OUT OF THIS ENDLESS LOOP OF YOURS.
DON'T SPECULATE ANY MORE.
DON'T ASSAIL OTHERS ENDLESSLY WITH YOUR DOUBTS.
DON'T PLAY THAT HARP AGAIN.
EVER.
WHICH MEANS FOR VERY, VERY LONG.
I WILL SEND YOU AN ANGEL TO GUIDE YOU.

BTW, YES, THERE IS A FIRST LIFE.
BTW, YES, THERE ARE HUMANS.
BTW, YES, OBVIOUSLY THERE ARE ANGELS TOO.
AND BTW, WATCH YOUR MOUTH.

I WISH YOU PEACE, LOVE AND PROSPERITY.

YOURS, ETC.

Damn!

2009-07-01T22:53:00.008+01:00

I'm gonna say one thing in words I rarely use. Damn. Crap. Bugger. Fuck. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

I suppose the others have a holiday or whatnot, and took themselves enough time to listen to a lot of my diary. And then told me I'm all wrong about Mia. They say I made her up. She never existed, apart from in my head. So she's not in First Life. They claim to be there themselves, yes, they do. But Mia has never been, they say. Because she has never been.

I know. Yes I know, I admit, I bloody confess. I did make her up once. I needed her at that time. But then she turned real!

They say that's nonsense.

And I say, if it's nonsense, how come Mia can describe First Life and what happens there so precisely? It's not me doing that, how could I, I know nothing about First Life as I have never been there.

So they say Mia's descriptions aren't that precise at all, and what's correct is probably stuff I've picked up listening to others. And then they correct themselves, lolling, saying well done, Serval, I almost got them there. And then they say I know about First Life because I'm there myself.

For once I feel I'm not the most stupid one here. They can't tell the difference? I walk here in Second Life, fly a lil, change my hair, and they watch me and think it's in First?

Assume that they are in First Life, after all, and maybe they see Mia doing those things. Maybe their world is a paralil uniworse, where Mia does exactly the same things as me, and they see her doing it while IMing me? That would explain things. But Mia doesn't do the same things. We do quite different things. I hang, dance and shop, while she goes to work, decorates a flat and eats cows.

Some time ago I concluded that Mia and I are one. I still think we are. Different parts of the same. But the others say she never was. I thought I had it all figured out, but I'm not so sure any more. That's why I said those bad words before. Damn, crap etc. Damn!

I want to understand who I am.

Quantum

2009-06-29T00:14:00.008+01:00

There has been hollowness again. I didn't expect that. I believed that now, once I figured out about Mia, I would be whole again. Perhaps more whole than ever before. But so it is not. I've been hollow again.

Maybe it is a crab after all, not a lack of heart. Because I've cured the latter. Oh, I can feel it here inside, beating slowly, steadily, a warm completeness that makes me smile at things, sigh at thoughts, and throw glances into dark corners over my shoulder.

No, that is all set now. But not the hollowness. I know how to unhollow myself, but it is annoying. I want others to see me, all of me, maybe even more now than before.

The rude man has not IMed me again, which is good. I've seen Fishie, which is good too, although time tears us apart. And I have understood things about Mia. In brief, that she is me in First Life. I wonder what it looks like there. Does she change clothes when I do? Hair? Skin?

I still don't believe she's controlling me. I think it's more like quantum mechanics, of which I understand absolutely nothing, but you who listen to my diary may understand and get what I mean. Yet, I think we're not altogether alike. I think Mia is the emotional one, while I'm the brainy. Haha, which says a lot about Mia, doesn't it.

Which also gives cause for a nohaha. If Mia is so utterly stupid, poor pet, and I'm sort of half way there, then what puts words such as quantum mechanics in my mouth? Or... Omg. Who?

Spoors

2009-06-25T23:53:00.009+01:00

Two years ago I spoke into my diary for the very first time:

"I am"

Am I? Have I achieved much? Have I left my mark in Second Life? Oki, I've made the odd friend. Some of them truly odd. The most normal, most social, most streamlined and easygoing avis don't seem very interested in knowing me. The spoors left by my serval paws don't seem to attract them. Maybe they're on the lookout for liejohns. Or even for dogs. Which I'm not, and so don't really expect their attention or interest. I can't reflect their ways through mine. And don't try much, because I don't really want to. I guess I can only take that much lolling and hunning, and not enough to appear social enough. So, really, I don't know what lies beyond the huns and lols. I've probably gone somewhere else, looking for the odd ones, when time would have come to find out.

I know I am one thing. I am slow. I'm usually the last one to find out what's up, and by then it's not up any more. I sometimes don't understand jokes, or what's going on at all, because I probably failed to pick something up en route. An expression. An abbreviation. Some novelty. And now this thing about Mia. It took me two years, which equals seven hundred... hair... Bax... days, to figure that one out. That's slow. Or am I just lacking interest? Lacking ambition? Not really caring to know?

Or just don't I care much about things at all? I may actually be discontinuing myself slowly by not getting involved or interested enough in anything. Oh, I have developed an interest in Fish, but isn't that really the Mia part of me doing that? The Serval part just shuffles about, dragging its feet leaving marks accordingly, not those clear and well-defined prints that might have attracted the interest of others.

Or can I blame time? Like, for seeing Fishie I have to stay up late, really much too late, because of time zones. So the human in me (yeah, I admit that one now, there has to be a human in each of us – just pls note that I say "in", not behind or anything about controlling) is always tired when in SL. Yawning instead of lolling, and too slow to make good conservation. Maybe even too slow to understand there is conservation going on at all.

And then there's also the time available to spend inworld. Momentum is required, it seems. If you don't see your friends often enough they lose interest. If you don't see your bf often enough he loses love. So you have to invest enough rl time or the wheels stop spinning. Which in fact means a slow discontinuation, because then not much of interest happens to you inworld. I don't mind the slow, but do mind the other. And sometimes don't understand why. "Because what can we avatars do? Walk, fly, talk, and take on and off clothes. That's about it." On your own, Second Life isn't that much of a nice place. And if you can't go there much enough, you may be on your own. Not experiencing much apart from the shallowest lollings.

Wow, that's some nice mood. Drawn right out of the cat.

Same

2009-06-23T23:36:00.056+01:00

Well, speaking of the devil. (I actually did so. In Noctober, I think. After being to the Bad Girls Club, a night when I was inspired by the absence of devils singing in songs. There were girls and guys singing instead. Slightly too high in pitch for me, but not in those falsettos of the devil song advocates, which include some of the other avis I see. At that point they said they were gonna have me cruisefied for bouncing up and down to popsicle music instead of flinging my head to and fro to the sound of bent knees.)

And now I'm speaking of the devil again. And would you believe it, cruisefying me was mentioned again today, but not by the others but by that horrid little rude man, who did return. I dunno if the guys that accompanied him were actually his brothers, but they were big and definitely not fairies, which they shouted back at me when I suggested they were. That was an attempt of mine to add a mellow, floating, misty touch to our rendezvous, because I found the lot of them intimatedating.

They said I'm gonna fry. That used to be a major fear of Mia's which I never really understood. I've seen fire, but I never saw it harming anyone. I once even sat in a log fire without anything happening to me. But now, the way the horrid man and his cabal spoke of it, the frying didn't sound very nice at all.

Witch. That's what I am, they said. A witch. Because I promote magic and heathen rites. I preach of and dance naked with elemental beings that do not exist. I promote bestiality not only with sheep. I'm a lessee and eat cats. I called them fairies. Therefore I shall burn by the steak.

I was just about to explain things to them, to put things right and make everyone happy again, when something happened. If you have been listening to my diary before, you may know that I once had a virus or a crab or whatnot that made clothes stick onto me even after I had taken them off. It was quite scary. Now, something similar happened. I was taking my clothes off to show Horrid Man et al that a lil bit of nudity doesn't do much harm to the world (at least not in a Mature sim) and that they needn't fear it.

But there was nothing beneath those clothes.

There was no skin.

I was hollow.

Okay, there are see-through garments. But as I wasn't wearing anything this couldn't be it. I had obviously been taken ill again. I was sick. It was like a return of the crabs. It was like lobsters, or a paella. And the timing of it was most inconvenient.

I half expected those guys around to be sympathetic, saying things like "hope you get well soon" or "try a Lemsip, hun". They did not. Instead there were screeches and a hurried search for tinder and a Pole. Well, well, so there it was. Even though I didn't understand why they couldn't do with someone from somewhere else, there it was, the reference to First Life that I had been half expecting. These big guys were there for religious reasons, after all.

"Speaking of the devil", I said, and there were further screeches.

I told them I almost went to Belchum once, hoping they would consider me one of them, a First Life name-dropper and thus, implied, a worshipper of humans. It didn't soften them. I asked them to go away. They didn't. I began tossing my head to and fro energetically. Their voices rose into falsettos, and despite them being quite a horde, and all of them so big they must have chosen maximum body size in the Appearance menu, they didn't seem quite as cocky any more. The minute before I had heard them say things such as "let's get her!" and "yeaaah!" and "kill the witch!", but now they almost seemed... scared.

Omg, wasn't I scared too. Because I knew that word. Kill. It meant deleting. They had come to discontinue me. I was dead scared. And so did the one thing any avatar in extreme peril would do.

I opened my inventory. I looked into it for anything usable. And grabbed the most horrifying thing I had in there for a weapon. One so bad I never ever thought I would ever touch it.

"I have a cat", I said, closing one hand around the Black Cat Avatar while reaching for the menu to open it with the other. "A black cat."

There were poofs. Poof, poof. And there were no more screeches. The big ones were gone, and so was Horrid Man. I later got an IM from him, saying I wasn't just a smelly witch, dike and beast mistress, but also very, very sick. Which I already knew, from the hollowness. "stay clear of me, ye jezebel of the devil", he said. Fine with me. I still don't know why he keeps approaching me. Maybe he thinks I'm cute.

So I was alone again. One hand holding that object. It had been there in my inventory all my life, and I had feared it. It was just an object with a name, like all other objects. But this one I had never opened. So I didn't know what was in there. I just knew how bad it was. It could be nothing but the source of pain, tears and black hearts. I realized that. And I realized that this wasn't my cat, but Mia's. Because I don't really feel those things. She does. And so she had put it there for me.

Which meant she had been there all the time. I wasn't here first. But neither was she. We both were. We were the same.

We are the same.

I'm not hollow any more. Because I'm no noob and I know how to fix those things. And because I tapped the menu, oc. At that point there was no other choice. The Black Cat Avatar opened. I got to see it. I got to feel it. I got to feel all those things of Mia's, but not like before by sensing her, but directly, in me. My hollowness was filled with a heart.

So now I fear fire.

I know Mia's pain, which is now mine, too.

I know love.

The lamb has been sheared.

Sensations

2009-06-21T23:49:00.005+01:00

I don't think I'm very impressed by what Mia said about this night being very short and special. And I don't get why a short night should make her go all misty and naked out in a field. The thing is, well, you know that I can sometimes sense her, especially when she's full of strong emotions. Which, for some stupid reason, is usually when she has one of her moods, dragging me too down into those dusky pits. But there have also been exceptions, when she's been like idiotically bubbly and passed some kind of headless happiness on to me, and omg, isn't it hard to make something useful out of your day when that's the state of mind and heart to start from. And now this mistyness. Here's a normal day in life, and all of a sudden my alter ego, this spawn of my own imagination, goes all witchy and ignites a spark of lust in me to actually do those things. Like doing dances wearing little at dawn. Ok, doing such a thing isn't very hard in Second Life, because I can make any night as short as I like, go wherever I want, etcetera. But hey, what's going on?

At the time when Mia spoke those crazy things in my diary, I could sense her. She brought a wicked change of mood. And tonight those same sensations of heart and tummy and everything are back again, only much stronger, much more wild and real. As if she's actually out there with the fairies right now. Oh, I had to ask the others what a fairy really is, and what they answered intrigued me a lot. I know that Mia is yearning to get naked with guys, but, really, that kind of guys? Wouldn't that be somewhat like what's the point whatsoever?

Omg, does that mean Mia is like one of those avis that hang around certain malls with poseballs without participating, getting the fun from watching only? And I raised her myself... Well, I'm not sure I did much raising, because this outcome is not at all what I intended. But I did make her up. I did deliver her.

And now she's making me sense her, leaking those emotions on to me. Come on, this is getting ridiculous. Someone told me the other day what that thing about being a dike really is about, and here comes act II, "The Urge to Get Naked and Watch Fairies". Spells or not, this unpredictability makes living so close to a human really hard. I will have to talk to her about it. Especially as I almost believe, from the intensity of what I can sense from her, that she's actually doing those things right now. And makes me want to be there too. Wow, just imagine that guy who was so upset because of this idea that I was sleeping with girls. I hope he stopped listening to my diary after that. Or he may be back any minute. Bringing his big brother. Or even religious avis. They'd never leave me alone after that. I shouldn't have opened my mouth at all today, I think.

Magical

2009-06-19T23:36:00.008+01:00

"dear diary,

midsummer eve. the longest day, followed by the shortest night. magical night. 11 pm. still old light lingering in the sky. 1 am. new light, first dawn. had it not been raining i'd been somewhere else, out of town, joining the fairy elves, dancing, shaping into mist over the meadows of the sheep, dancing, flowing, naked body glittering from morning dew, dancing, dancing. magical night.

and then. the truth. destiny.

you pick them in silence by a crossroad, the seven flowers, all different, to bring home into bed. and from below your pillow they whisper his picture into your dreams that night. do you know him? he'll be yours. don't recognize him? makes it much harder, because you've got to find him, have to, as he's destined for you.

so i may not speak again before i go to bed tonight, or nothing will be revealed to me. hush, mia, or you will learn nothing, won't see, won't know. but i'm not gonna blow it. i'll be quiet, and let my incarnation serval only speak for me tonight.

who will i see in my dreams? will i see you?

magical night.

with her fresh skills in keeping track of days, serval is for sure gonna tell me midsummer eve is still to come, is still a few days ahead. oh, i know. tonight is rehearsal night. so is every night. rehearsal or for real. the incantation may vary, but so is every night.

mia"

Lamb II

2009-06-17T00:46:00.027+01:00

I once spoke about innocence and lambs. Now, if you're a lamb but stray off a little, sort of, then what are you after you have been sheared? Well, I can't really use the term plucked, can I, because that's applicable for a completely different kind of object only. I once saw Ozark in a turkey suit, and that one was both plucked and roasted. And beheaded, too. Poor thing, I wonder what had happened to it.

With certain details of my skin in mind, I asked some of the others about the shearing thing, if that's what it means, having been sheared. That would make sense to me. But not to them, obviously, because they lolled me. Then they said that this particular kind of shearing that I was speaking of has little to do with plucking. Except that a complete lack of shearing may reduce the chances of the plucking, at least according to their opinion, all of them preferring a full shear, they said rofling. I told them that come on, it's just skin, and they said that there I was, now I was getting them, and they were lolling no end.

Then, am I right saying that my skin doesn't reveal if I'm still a lamb or a... well, that was my initial question, wasn't it. What are you after you have been sheared? Well, i can't really use the term omg, I'm becoming Mia! I've caught a compulsive obsession this order! Omg, I'll be eating peanut butter any minute now.

brb

bk

I've had some emergency cognitive behaviour terrapin now, so I'm fine again. They made me switch off a light, close a door and walk a pavement, and then dismissed me because I was OK. They scared me a little when saying they were gonna do that, because that dismiss word has the same ring as all those other words that I don't like. But then they rephrased it into "let you go home", and that was fine with me.

So, what's the answer? Of that question? I won't ask it again. A ewe or a ram? Mutton? Or just a plain naked lamb and a heap of wool?

And then my next question. Please, exactly what kind of things have had to happen for you to become a ewe/mutton/plain naked lamb? After being a cute and fluffy little lamb, that is. Is there like a border that has to be crossed, and if you haven't, but just been like glancing at it or walking up to it but not across or something like that, you're still an innocent lamb? Is there some kind of habitude requirement? And does the skin change, allowing others to see and know? "Oh, her skin has changed, she's been to the shearing barn." Or, for turkeys, "oh, her skin has been plucked, and browned nicely, she's been cooked".

Sleep

2009-06-13T23:25:00.002+01:00

Now Mia has warned me I'm gonna sleep for a couple of days again. I asked if she's going to prison again, but she said no. She's going back to the station to visit Cat, and it's just for one two three days. Maybe she read what I last spoke here in my diary about fences, sheep and dikes, and got homesick. Seems like there are no stations or farms in this new place she's in. What a strange place... I mean, I can go farming and diking whenever I like, and then TP straight to a big city when I'm done. No sleeping involved. The heavenly qualities of First Life seem a little questionable. Again. I'd say they probably have lots of problems with bugs and lag over there. Lots of lag.

Rude

2009-06-12T01:13:00.011+01:00

Someone who had been listening to my diary said I'm a dike. He spoke to me about that thing only, so it was obviously quite important to him. Especially as he never spoke to me before. I didn't really get the point why saying this was so pressing, but I should probably be glad he didn't just "mmmmm" me like all those others. This was at least an attempt to make conservation.

He said I was sleeping with fish, and from the way he said it I understood that he saw this as some sort of problem. So I told him about my brother Cat sleeping with sheep, if he wanted real problems to ponder. Now, Cat isn't really my brother but Mia's, which I told him too, explaining that Mia is my puppet in First Life, while I have no control of what Cat is doing. If I had, I'd make him sleep with some cooler kind of animal.

At that point this guy said he'd mute me if I didn't stop saying such repulsive things. Well, it wasn't me who opened the IM. And I have never told anyone that I sleep with Fishie. So that was a conclusion of his own. I told him he was being rude, and he told me I was a disgrace. Which ended our chat.

Some other avis have told me now and then that I look pretty. Well, at least since I got myself a good skin. Before that, someone once said I looked like a lampshade. But no-one ever called me a dike before. That's like saying I'm a fence, or look like a boundary. No, I prefer hearing that I look good. Like in the girls only club, where they said it a lot when I was dancing. I think that this guy should go there and learn from them.

Schoolmistress

2009-06-10T22:11:00.004+01:00

"dear diary,

coming from the small town, the little island, the station, or wherever you next life incarnation has decided to place you, and arriving in the big city. a flat in the middle of it all, small yet mine and comfortable enough. isn't that good enough for starters. then there's my new job, and the absence of stagnant headmasters or others obsessed by sheep and who took the last rum on saturday's station dance. i have real colleagues now, people my age, people my kind, and first day after work some of them took me for a hell of an evening out, oh, so much wine and a single long good laugh, and i got by far too late and drunk in bed. there's the faster pace of the city, clearly noticeable, perceptible, and the lights and the crowds and the shops and the cafés. the burden of vigilance, sprung out of uncle aaron's mere existence and what he once did, is gone, off my shoulders. i tread the streets, dance the streets, lightly. the sense of freedom is mindblowing.

oh, it's not all new to me, because i have lived here before. but at that time there were still things to be done, things to return home to do, muting my joie de vivre. now they have been done. and i'm back, having left that past for ever i hope, i hope, i hope, and having left with a thrilling parting kiss, objectionable enough to have been out of qustion in the old life, but tempting and exciting enough to mark the beginning of the new. this is not just a move. it is a change, too. a liberation. a smiling downhill walk into the future. schoolmistress days have ended.

mia"

Liejohns

2009-06-09T22:07:00.020+01:00

I once spoke here about the three scary liejohns that came to the savannah planning to ravish every little kitty they could lay their paws upon. They didn't get very lucky, though, because the other cats got themselves big ears and could listen to the lions making up their plans, and stay out of reach. That's what I said last time. But the story doesn't end there.

The liejohns were deeply disappointed not getting any in the savannah. They decided to turn elsewhere for carnal grafittication, and penetrated the riverine forests. But not the way you may be thinking. They left the open land behind and went into the bush, which was the outskirt of this hardwood forest lining the big river. After quite some walking, because liejohns in general are fairly slow, they reached the river. There were no kitties around, but the liejohns saw other animals and decided to have a go.

The first liejohns grabbed himself a big flat animal by the tail, hauled it out of the water, and told it to lube up.

"Oki with me", the crocodile said, "but how about a lil bj for starters?"

The liejohns liked the idea and agreed. And all of you that know anything about crocodiles can guess how that one ended.

The second liejohns saw what happened and decided for a different kind of mate. It waded into the water to the hippopotassiumusos and threw it a good pickup line.

"That's kinda gay", the male hippo said, "but sure, I'm game if I can do you first?"

The liejohns agreed. Haha, and all of us that know about hippos know how that one ended!

The third liejohns saw what happened and decided for yet another kind of animal. Haha, it splashed up to the saddle-billed stork and rofl... lol, it's hilarious, isn't it! Poor liejohns...

/me wipes the tears from her cheeks

They say

2009-06-07T23:27:00.008+01:00

Today was Emmi day, but they say I didn't make it into the E-you. All the votes have now been counted, and I didn't get enough votes. That's what they say. So I have cancelled the party to celebrate my ejection. But I don't really get it. The number of votes given in my sim was higher in today's ejection than in previous ones, while the numbers went down in most other sims. I'd say that increase is because of my campaign. My fellow avatars saw me, realized the good things I'd be able to do for them in the E-you, and decided to go and vote, for me.

Yet someone that can count better than me now says sorry Serval.

I'm not sure what to make out of this. Oh, well, I actually am. If I had been ejected for the E-you, I would have been TP'd to Brazils in Belchum, which I have been told is a place in First Life. Obviously that won't happen now. But, really and truly, is that because only few voted for me, despite my campaign, or because there never was a Brazils and there never even was an E-you? Wasn't the ejection just a hoax made up by the religious avis, to make the rest of us believe that all avatars are allowed to choose those gods of First Life that make up the rules we are supposed to submit to? And then, when I, an avatar, decided to run for a seat in the E-you parlourmeant, their plan screwed up. They just couldn't let me be ejected. Because they wouldn't be able to TP me to First Life. Because there is none.

Had I been TP'd to see those places and the humans that are said to inhabit them, there would have been no option for me but to bow my head and humbly admit I've been wrong all the time about humans and First Life. I would have had to repaint and become religious like all those others, accepting the existence of humans. But now, as things have turned out, that will not happen. I'm not gonna see First Life. I'm not gonna see humans. I'm just gonna follow the rules. Because I decide them myself, through the humans ejected on Emmi day. They say.

Vote

2009-06-04T17:30:00.014+01:00

I dunno if Mia is trying very, very hard to be that Ms Know-All. It's not the first time she expects me to understand nothing, you know. "I'm not sure she's aware of it herself, because she doesn't handle numbers very well." Dear Mia. I had handled the numbers. And done it very well. (Ok, with a little help, so what.) I was aware. I was aware and I had made sure to plan for a very nice and exciting birthday party that night. Probably around the time when you were going on about "that's 730 days, sweetie, which is about the same number of days etc etc omg". Which you did in my diary, btw, even though I've asked you to get your own. When you were speaking there, probably boring avis and humans alike half to death, I was having fun, wine, laughs and carnal adventures. Which I enjoyed. Which I can not say about later listening to my diary. "Blah blah incantation blah."

Now, having said that, it's time consider the future. Which may turn out really nasty unless you take proper care. (And I'm not directing this to Mia only any more, but to anyone that comes listening.) Others – such as avis that starve cats, make things move slowly inworld, and bump into you and don't even say sorry – want the world to have no rules, so that they themselves can bend it into a shape that they themselves can play as they like without facing opposition. They want to be free, but don't care if you are. To stop them, you gotta go vote on Emmi day.

On that day, the avis of a million sims have a common ejection, to pick those that are to make up the rules. Those rules are to make sure that everyone, including avis like me, furries, vamps, noobs and maybe even the allegedly existing humans, have the same rights. Irrespective of how long you've been rezzed, what your linden dollar counter says or the size of your object willie. Those picked on Emmi day will TP to a place called E-you, where they will make the rules and save the world from slime, griefing and other stuff that's no good to anyone but to the baddies.

Emmi day is in one two three days. Pls go vote! If you like, you may vote for me. That is, if you want stability and all those nice things which I have already spoken a lot about. No more details are required on that topic, I'd say. Now, if you don't want to vote for me, go vote anyhow, just don't vote for some complete arsehole. This is about avis and you and me being free.

Rezz

2009-05-30T23:21:00.009+01:00

"dear diary,

while real life is now about to change a lot for me – a new job, a new home, new surroundings, new love life, yes, because why shouldn't i be expectant – next life is probably not going to change dramatically for serval. (unless she'll be elected on emmi day, that is. i'm keeping my fingers crossed, although i think her campign is still just a little, little bit on the quiet side.)

today is a special day for my incarnation, anyhow, even though i'm not sure she's aware of it herself. because she still doesn't handle figures and numbers very well. at all.

serval, it's your rezzing day. your birthday. happy birthday!

two years (that's 730 days, sweetie, which is about the same number of days as the number of lindens needed to buy one two three four hairs in deviant kitties or simliar stores, or almost enough to buy that red pair of bax shoes, so that you'd have those too, not just the blacks) have passed since those first confused steps and that first typing in the air.

things have changed since. well, some have. there have been new friends, inventory items and experiences. there has been work, love, loss of love, loss of friends, yet new friends, and an insight in what happens to people when they pass the veil into the world of the undead and become the incarnations of next life. basically, not much happens at all. i think that's the conclusion on that one. but what follows into the next world is filtered, sharpened, or rather like homemade stock. you reduce it until the essence that you're looking for is there, good or bad, and then wield it at your dinner guests.

serval has moved on from being a complete newbie to a camper, and on to being a kept incarnation, then a dancer in a club, and then kept again. her interests haven't changed much, though. she still goes dancing for fun, shopping and hanging with friends. oh, what has changed is that she now likes fish a lot. did i foresee that? nope.

politics are also new. i wish serval all luck on emmi voting day. wouldn't it be a lovely thing having an incarnation from next life in the e-you parliament! i don't know if any of the politicians more experienced than serval are running through their incarnations. companies, embassies and their countries, musicians, they all go next life. so why not the politicians, too. the election hasn't been a very hot topic inworld, though, so i think they may have neglected their presence and their incarnation voters.

one thing that hasn't changed yet is that little never ending controversy of mine and serval's. it's still to be resolved. do i control her? or does she control me?

love, serval!

mia"

Viewpoints

2009-05-29T00:07:00.005+01:00

After some feedback from the others I've decided for a slight change of approach in my campaign for the E-you. I appear "not very sympathetic, omg, get out of here", they say.

I'm not going to stop running, oh no, but I have reconsidered my viewpoints.

When you vote E-mi Serval on ejection day, your vote will be in safe hands. They are clean, they are soft, and they have upholstrable thumbs. You understand metaforce? Good. Then you know where we are.

My reign will cast the light of good values and sound comeservalism over the world. I will do nothing to compromise your way of life. I'm for stability. And change for those who like. The Appearance menu will remain there for all of you. Taxation will remain 0 %. If you want to pay taxes anyhow, just click me and select Pay. Those who do will be formally blessed with this gesture I have, it's a kiddie voice saying "Thank you".

If you still have doubts regarding my capacity on the throne of the E-you I have one single thing to say to put your mind at ease: don't.

Vote Serval on E-mi day.

Adventure

2009-05-21T00:48:00.021+01:00

"dear diary,

i'm truly looking forward to the day when the new e-me decides the future of worlds. but i can't really muster much interest in her campaign. which is just slightly less interest than she herself musters, it seems. a poster and a few posts in your diary won't earn you the crown or lindens or meetings with ohbanana, serval. omg, i may actually be showing more interest than she does, writing this.

i myself am preoccupied with the coming weeks, when i'm to leave this world of mine to enter a new one. but don't worry, my little incarnation serval, this is not a discontinuation. there will be a move of my inventory from this island of mine, where the station, the school and the meadows of the sheep are. to another island with lots of high buildings, lots of others around and few animals surviving very long. it's gonna be an adventure.

but i'll leave some love behind. my brother cat and my sisters. some good friends. no. my two very dearest friends. and my mother, who is now much closer to me than just a year or two ago. adventure comes at a price.

but time has come. there will be no more dancing with the kiddies, and no more looking out for headmaster while doing it. there will be no more taming uncle aaron, who's down on all fours now and won't make it up on twos again. cat will keep feeding the sheep, and give our sisters a helping hand should they face challenges they are still to young to handle.

so here comes adventure. i'm free. i'll tp to another place, and maybe for the first time i'll be able to choose all my own choices. i'll go where i can earn my lindens the way i like. where no-one really cares where my eyes stray, guy or girl, leaving me alone to wonder what this new path i've seen may feel like under my feet. where no-one cares whether i can handle a bloody big kitchen stove or not. where no-one expects me to like sheep, seen, heard or served.

so no. this is not discontinuation.

mia"

E-me

2009-05-12T01:12:00.005+01:00

I'm considering a different approach to this E-me thingie. (Yes, renaming it to E-me is part of the novelties.) Because I have heard that all those that want to be the ruling ones have now started to fight each other to be chosen.

My plan is better. It's decisive, proving me to be the one that all avis want in control. So I tell you, avatars, furries, allegedly existing humans, comrades. There shall be no choice. There shall be only the option of me. To ensure that I'm awarded the queendom, and the many lindens that come with it. And I will rule wisely. Oh, there will be tales told and songs sung about all those marvellous deeds of mine to come.

Dawn is coming to Second Life. There will be no lag, no sudden crashes, no linden dollar counters running dry. Have trust in me. Join me. Behold E-me!

Ejection

2009-05-06T00:45:00.015+01:00

They told me there's an ejection to the E-you coming up soon. They didn't say how soon, though. Or what it's for. So I thought it didn't sound very interesting. When I told them, they said oh it is, and suggested that I should run. Which sounded much more like it, because I'd run from ejections any day. And from deletions. Discontinuations. Terminations. As anyone listening to my diary may know by now.

They said there's gonna be a big voting, and those who win will be ejected. Win? Is there really any avi around that thinks being discontinued from SL is winning? Well, yes, sure, there are. I know. The religious ones have another way of putting it. They say that after you're gone, you'll come to a much better place, where there are no worries and nothing bad. Ok, to me that sounds pretty much like SL. But not to them, apparently. They dream of an even better place. And this wonderful afterlife, which to me is the scary third life, has obviously been renamed and is now to be called the E-you.

This is what I thought. Untill the others told me I had gotten it all wrong, and told me the same things over again, only in other words. And slower.

It's not about being ejected at all, but about being chosen to decide things. You are brought to this place Brazils, which is in Belchum (which happens to be in First Life – omg, yellow religion alert!), and there they give you lots and lots of lindens for being the boss. They told me about trade, markets, borders and other things they seemed to find important, and said I can become the one in charge deciding about those things. That is, if I'm the chosen one after the E-jection.

I don't think I'd like to waste much time on such things, though. If I was in control of everything (which sounds very much like omg, red alert, they are talking about humans again!), I'd ban guys waiting around teleports. I'd make those guys that still would continue doing so take their clothes of in public places wearing demo skins. I'd ban the slime that makes us avis move slowly. I'd ban ejections and discontinuations.

That last thing made me change my mind about running for the E-you. It would be worth the effort if I'd be able to prevent me and others from being cancelled. And the idea of getting lindens also appealed to me. So I decided to do it.

I, Serval, am hereby a candidate running for the job as high priestess of the E-you, to be in control of everything, avis, humans and worlds included. Obedient servants loyal to my wishes will be rewarded. Insubordinates will be ruthed.